Reborn in Fire
by Aerle
Summary: Fireman Marco has earned the nickname 'the Phoenix' by saving numerous people from a certain death. After an accident however, he has to relearn to walk and gets a new job as arson inspector at a different fire station. There he gets confronted with a boy from his past, now all grown up and gorgeous. The MarcoAce version of Hot as Fire (independently readable)
1. Chapter 1

As promised to my _Hot as Fire_ readers, the first chapter of the MarcoAce version of that story. The stories involve some of the same characters, but you don't have to read _HaF_ in order to understand this one, or the other way around. There will be some overlap in the story, but from a different point of view.

(This chapter starts about a year before the first chapter op _HaF_)

Well, please enjoy :3

* * *

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 1

When he woke up, he felt slightly surprised. He was alive, somehow. It wasn't a shocking experience, it happened pretty often he managed to get out of the most desperate situations alive. He didn't know how, but he did it. He should have been dead long ago, but the laws of physics didn't seem to apply to him. Not all of them, at least.

Thatch put down the newspaper when he noticed he was awake. "You scared the hell out of everyone again," he commented dryly.

"You should know me better by now." With much difficulty Marco hoisted himself in a sitting position. He was in the hospital again, judging by the white walls and the many machines.

"I didn't say you scared _me_."

The blonde shook his head. "So, how bad was it this time?"

"The burning building collapsed while you were still inside. A heavy beam landed on your lower back, but somehow you managed to get out, don't ask me how." Thatch grinned. "They don't call you 'the Phoenix' for nothing."

Marco just grunted. He was a fireman and had often saved people out of the fire when the situation had deemed hopeless. His fellow firemen had christened him 'the Phoenix', as every time he came back out of the fire alive. Personally he didn't care for the nickname. He didn't save all those people for the glory or to be a hero. He had a debt to repay. That he couldn't seem to die in the fire was a welcome bonus.

A man in a white coat entered the room. "You're awake." He sounded surprised.

"Yes."

Apparently everyone had expected he would remain in a coma, according to the doctor. "It's already a miracle you survived. Most people who come out of a situation like yours alive remain in a comatose state for the rest of their lives."

Thatch exchanged a look with Marco and winked knowingly at him.

"You've been very lucky," the doctor continued. "There is also bad news, however. The chance that you will ever walk again is next to nothing."

Thatch jumped up. "That's impossible! Don't you know who he is? Marco the Phoenix! He comes out in one piece in the most hopeless situations!"

But the doctor shook his head. "He can count himself lucky to be alive. But I'm afraid he will have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair."

* * *

A few weeks later however the doctor retracted his statement. Marco have been able to move his legs and feel sensations with them. The whole world of medicine was baffled. With intense physiotherapy the blonde slowly learned how to walk again. At first it hurt like hell, but with time the pain faded. He was able to walk with crutches.

When he told Thatch, his foster brother had laughed. "Typically Marco. You should have been dead, but you come out of a burning building alive. You should be in a coma, so you wake up. You shouldn't be able to walk, so you grab your crutches. I wouldn't be surprised if you one day manage to become young again."

Marco snorted. He wasn't that old, was he?

* * *

A few days later he got an unexpected visitor. The assistant brigade manager of his fire brigade stopped by. After Marco's last accident he had once visited him in the hospital, saying to his regret the blonde couldn't be a full-fledged fireman if he couldn't walk. It had devastated Marco, even though he had already known. His debt wasn't repaid yet. If he couldn't be a fireman, how would he fulfil his obligation to that young boy?

He had been depressed ever since he heard the news. But when there was a chance he might be able to walk again, he got his hopes up. But he didn't want to contact the fire brigade before he was able to walk without crutches again. So why was the assistant brigade manager here?

"I heard the Phoenix had risen again," the man said with a smile, when Marco had opened the door.

"Hardly. I still can't walk without these." The blonde gestured towards his crutches.

The assistant brigade managers shook his head. "You shouldn't be alive, let alone hobbling around."

Without responding Marco made his way to the kitchen, brushing aside the assistant brigade manager's offers to help. Sighing the blonde put on the kettle for tea. He was really growing tired of people telling him he was lucky to be alive.

Of course he was happy still lived, but the only thing he could think about was how he had let that boy down, ten years ago. In all these years the guilt hadn't gone away and the only way he believed it would was by continuing rescuing people, like he had done before.

With the teapot in one hand he could only use one crutch. Carefully he walked back to the living room. The assistant brigade manager asked again if he could help, but Marco declined. After he had gone back to the kitchen for mugs, he sunk into a chair and looked at his guest expectantly.

The assistant brigade manager cleared his throat. "I know how hard it was for you to hear you couldn't be a fireman anymore. And I heard your walking is improving slowly. But I doubt you can go back to your old ways anytime soon, rushing in burning buildings, giving everyone a heart attack in worry and rise out of the fire. But maybe I have a solution."

* * *

The next couple of months were pretty busy for Marco. The solution the assistant brigade manager had made wasn't perfect, but it was an acceptable one. The former fireman had realised that perhaps he could learn how to walk again, but the healing process would be long and painful. Being a fireman in the meantime was very unrealistic and he refused to settle for doing chores at the fire station. And there the solution of the assistant brigade manager came in.

In a town a few miles over called Sabaody the fire investigator of the fire station there would retire in a few months. Marco could be re-educated to be an arson inspector. That way he could still make a contribution to the fire station, even if he had to walk with crutches. He would have to move though, Sabaody was a little too remote to travel daily, and because of his condition he wasn't allowed to drive himself, so he had to take the bus.

He didn't mind to moving much. One of his foster brothers lived in Sabaody, and he had even found a house in the same street. The advantage of having many brothers was that he didn't have to hire movers. His house was furnished in no time.

When his house was done, his brothers persuaded him to throw a house warming party. He ended up inviting the whole street, because they would disturb them anyway; his brothers knew how to throw a party. Hiring movers probably had been cheaper.

He studied for his fire investigation exam. His brother Izo came by every once in a while to test him. Marco actually enjoyed the education. By the time the old arson inspector was retired, the blonde had passed the exam and was now a certified fire investigator. His former fire station had made all the arrangements, he could start working right away. By now, he could walk with walk with only one crutch.

The bus stopped only a few yards away from the Sabaody fire station. The station manager was already waiting outside. He greeted Marco kindly and shook his hand. "Glad you could make it. I understood that your old fire station was sorry to see you go, but fortunately for us, we had a vacancy. It's an honour to have the famous Phoenix working with us."

"Please, I'm not a fireman anymore. Therefore the Phoenix is no more. I would appreciate it if I could keep my past in the past," Marco answered.

The station manager seemed to be a bit disappointed, but reconciled with his wishes. "The Phoenix is a legend here, but I won't tell you're him. We do have our own little phoenix here, perhaps he's inspired by you. A young – and reckless – fireman who has saved a bunch of children from the fire already. But you'll meet him eventually. Come, I will show you to your office."

Marco followed him inside. They entered a large hall, where some fire trucks stood parked. A few volunteers were washing them and looked up curiously as the two men passed. The station manager led the way to the back of the hall. A metal spiral staircase led to a small platform. The station manager noticed him looking and said apologetic: "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your office is upstairs and we don't have an elevator. You can manage that?"

One thing he'd learned from growing up with many brothers was never to show your weaknesses. So he nodded.

Slowly he followed the manager up the stairs, clenching around the handrail and leaning on his crutch. God, he had to do this _every day_.

His office turned out to be a small room with a desk, computer and a file cabinet. He probably would have become claustrophobic, had not the window taken up almost the entire back wall. He overlooked the outside training area.

Three firemen were working out at the moment. Two brown haired men were trying their climbing skills at a rope, while a black haired man was doing pull ups shirtless. Marco couldn't see his face, but his eyes lingered on the man's muscular body.

He knew he liked men for a long time, but he didn't care for labels. The persons who he cared about knew about his sexual preference. Though he wasn't ashamed about it, he didn't proclaim it from the rooftops either. He had been in relationships with men, but he didn't mind being alone.

This however was new. Usually he wasn't this shallow, staring and drooling all over someone. He hadn't even seen his face, dammit!

"These are some of my best guys," the station manager commented, not having noticed Marco's odd behaviour. "Johnson, Portgas and Smith. True heroes, those boys. Portgas is the person I was talking about just now, by the way."

For some reason he knew that the man with the sexy back and ass had to have a more special last name then Johnson or Smith. "Who was he again?" he asked the manager casually.

The other man pointed to the black haired man. As if he knew, the young man called Portgas turned around. Marco noticed a tattoo on the man's arm. It showed an A, a crossed out S, a C and an E. Ace?

His eyes passed from the man's muscular arm to his equally muscular chest, shining with sweat. His mouth went dry when he saw the image of him licking it off in his mind's eye. He forbade himself to let his look wander further down and instead focussed on the man's face. And he froze.

Someone hated him. The whole universe probably. It wasn't enough he almost died or that he had lost the job he loved. The same job with which he had tried so hard to make up for what he did. But no. He had to be punished more severely.

The man in front of him was no other than the boy he met ten years ago. Only now grown up. And gorgeous. He tried to convince himself the man just looked alike, but his freckled face was unmistakably the same. His black hair had grown longer and this time, instead of crying he was grinning.

Why was he working here?

* * *

When he turned around, Ace noticed two shadows behind the window. It was the window of the office formally occupied by the arson inspector, before he had retired. He squinted, but couldn't make out more then silhouettes.

Now that he thought about it, hadn't he heard something about a new fire investigator? He was new, but supposedly very good at the job. Ace didn't really care. He did wonder why a fairly young man – for he had heard the new guy was in his early thirties – would want to become a arson inspector, when he could be a fireman. He probably was a very boring guy.

* * *

The station manager looked at his watch. "We better get going. You can enjoy the view at any time."

Marco gulped, but nothing showed the man had noticed his special interest in fireman Portgas.

"I've asked everyone to gather at half past ten, so I can introduce you properly," the manager continued.

The blonde jerked his head up. "I don't think that's necessary," he started but the other man waved his objections away.

"Nonsense, we always welcome a new member of the family. Don't worry, they don't know about your past, though I still don't understand why you want to keep it a secret. The boys will probably accept you more swiftly if they know you were one of them."

Marco kept silent, but followed the station manager to the landing. "I probably should have done things the other way around," the latter said scratching the back of his head, while eyeing the blonde's crutch.

Marco sighed deeply and started descending the stairs, trying to ignore the eyes staring at him. He hated to look helpless, so he made his way down as fast as he could. He probably would regret it in the morning.

The station manager was either feared or very well liked – Marco suspected the latter – because a crowd had gathered in the hall. They didn't seem very interested in him though, they probably only had come because they were asked to. Marco didn't really care, after all he wouldn't work with them very often. He did feel a little overdressed though, he was the only one wearing a suit.

"Boys," the station manager started – even though there were female fire fighters as well, "as you all know Ralph has retired. So please welcome our new arson inspector, Marco Fenwick!"

An uninterested applause sounded. The blonde didn't listen. His eyes scanned the crowd for the young fireman.

Ace worked his way trough the front of the mob. Curiously he looked up to the new arson inspector. He was kind of handsome. His eyes were a bit droopy like he didn't have enough sleep and an odd hairdo, reminding him somewhat of a pineapple. But who knew what kind of nice body that suit was hiding?

Only then he noticed the crutch the man was leaning on. That explained some things. Perhaps he wasn't a coward, who became an arson inspector because he was too scared to be a fireman, but because he couldn't be one. It was a turnoff anyhow, as Ace liked the people he hooked up with to be in good shape. And even being blonde and having a nice ass – he just assumed, but would find out later – wouldn't make up for that.

* * *

The worst about not being able to walk without crutches was that he couldn't practice aikido [1] on the level he was used to. In the town he previously lived in, he had been training on an advanced level and even trained a kids class. Now he was in a beginners group.

When he got home that night he wasn't tired after the training. He had helped a lot of the new students with adjusting their posture and holding the right grip, but he had hardly worked up a sweat. Still he decided to take a shower. He made his way up the stairs and with a lot of effort he managed to take off his clothes. While undressing he let the impressions of his first day as arson inspector sink in.

Ace had been there – he had started calling him that in his head, he really should find out if that even was his name. The little boy he had met ten years ago had grown up into a fine young man. He didn't seem to have recognised Marco, he had been just a boy back then and the blonde had been wearing protective gear. So that was a bit of a relief, but what if the freckled man remembered him later on?

Marco had tried to convince himself that the heavy pounding of his heart was caused by the shock of recognising the man from his past, from what he had done. But he knew better. He was starting to really like the young man.

Warm water splashed down on him, while he recalled the images of Ace working out shirtless. That boyish grin when he turned around…

He could already feel his body responding. Maybe his feelings for the fireman weren't as strong as he feared. Maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. He closed his eyes and slowly he reached down.

That morning he had forbidden himself to look lower than the freckled man's torso, but now he gave his thoughts free rein. In his mind Ace slowly and teasingly took of his pants and underwear. His cheeks were flushed from arousal.

Marco started to stroke himself harder, his eyes closed an moaning softly. He imagined what it would be like to kiss the fireman, to lick his abs, to hear him moan his name. 'Marco…'

That was too easy. Panting he leaned against the wall, while the shower washed away all evidence of his pleasure.

* * *

"We have a new arson inspector since today," Ace said.

He got an uninterested grunt in response. The black haired man sighed. It was always like this after sex. Smoker preferred if he just left right after they fucked. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay, talk and spend the night.

Their 'arrangement' of having sex had started a few weeks ago. Ace had met the captain of the police force after a fire and ended up giving him a blowjob in an ally. After that they had hooked up many times, but it was always just sex. They didn't even kiss.

They were supposed to be just fuck buddies, but Ace was starting to develop feelings for the man. He came to Smoker's house often, even if the captain didn't call him. But every time Smoker sent him away right after sex.

Well, today he wouldn't take it lying down. "You know, I just let you fuck me. You could show some interest in my life," he pouted.

Smoker sighed and got up from the bed. "I thought that was what this arrangement was all about. But fine, I'll bite. Please, tell me more."

Ace decided to ignore the sarcastic tone and said in an attempt to make the man jealous: "He's about your age, I think, and pretty handsome. Tall, blond…" He looked at the captain from the corner of his eye, who was busy lighting a large cigar. "And he doesn't smoke like a chimney," he added in a pout.

Smoker went with his hand through his grey-green hair. "If you like him so much, you should annoy him instead of me."

Irritated Ace started to dress himself. "You know what? Maybe I will!" And he slammed the door shut.

* * *

'Getting it out of his system' didn't work, so he resolved in avoiding the black haired man. It wasn't that difficult, as he had his own office where he could hide out. Only when there was a fire he needed to be careful, but fortunately he didn't have to do any investigation yet.

He tried to throw himself on his work – all paperwork the former inspector hadn't finished – but every now and then he caught himself gazing out of the window when Ace was working out. Well, who could blame him if the man insisted on being shirtless?

He cursed himself for behaving like a princess locked up in a tower gazing outside and returned to his computer screen.

The one major flaw in the design of the fire station was that the offices were upstairs, the canteen downstairs and there was no elevator. Marco's doctor had told him to take things easy and climb and descent the stairs as little as possible. Though the blonde had lost his faith in the doctor, climbing the stairs was quite a hassle, so he limited his trips downstairs as much as possible. He also avoided lunch hours, to reduce the chance of walking into Ace.

When he was staring at the computer screen for a few hours, he decided it was probably best to take a little walk. On the landing he looked around, he hated to be watched when he struggled to get downstairs. Fortunately the hall was empty, as was the canteen when he finally arrived to get coffee.

He placed a cup in the coffee machine and pressed the button for an espresso. While the machine did its job, Marco leaned against the counter and placed his crutch next to him. A beep sounded, announcing his coffee was done. He turned around, knocking over his crutch with his elbow. He cursed when the rotting thing hit the floor with a clang. Walking was getting better every day, but it still took him ridiculously long to put on his pants in the morning, because bending over was still very difficult.

Sighing deeply he started the annoying task of leaning down.

* * *

Ace hadn't thought about his threat to Smoker in a few days, but he hadn't paid the captain a visit either. First the man should learn how to appreciate him, he thought haughty.

He felt a little sleepy today, so he decided to get some coffee. After all, he couldn't be caught having a sleep attack at work. If they knew he was narcoleptic, they wouldn't let him be a fireman anymore. He couldn't stand that thought.

When he arrived in the canteen, it was empty except for the new arson inspector, who was currently having a lot of trouble picking up his crutch. It did give Ace a perfect chance to check out the blonde's ass, as he had resolved. Nothing wrong with that.

The freckled man remembered what he had said to Smoker. He had jumped to conclusions with the fire inspector, maybe he should give the man a chance.

"Here, let me help you with that." He picked up the crutch and handed it to the other man.

For a second the arson inspector looked at him as if he had seen a ghost, but then his expression changed and he smiled slightly. He grabbed the cup and offered Ace the coffee.

The black haired man grinned. "Thanks." The blonde presented the cup in his right hand. Quickly Ace checked the ring finger, but the man wasn't wearing a wedding ring or had a tan line there. That was a good sign.

He took the cup, keeping his eye on the other man. The blonde wasn't wearing a suit, like on the first day. His clothes were more casual, making him appear more relaxed. Ace had now the chance to take a closer look at the other man. Now that he didn't look so shocked anymore, his face looked a bit bored, but friendly. A bit of stubble decorated his chin. It was tempting to have a feel.

The freckled man saw the fire investigator's eyes flick quickly up and down, taking the fireman in. He was checking Ace out. _Another good sign_, the freckled man thought.

He hadn't heard the man speak yet, so he decided to strike up a conversation. "It's Marco, right?" he asked, not being one to be overly polite. When the man gave a nod, he continued: "I'm Ace."

Marco looked like he was about to say something, when the siren started to wail. Ace sighed dramatically and then smiled at Marco. "Sorry, got to go. We'll finish this conversation later." With a wink he left.

* * *

A few weeks went by, in which Ace didn't get a chance to talk the fire investigator. He had seen him a couple of times, but then either he was busy or Marco was, or he saw the blonde from a distance.

He didn't have the time to flirt with him anyway. Recently the town had been hit with a streak of fires, most which were determined – by Marco – to be cases of arson. Ace had to work overtime. More than once he had been woken up in the middle of the night and two night ago hadn't been the first time he had to leave Smoker's house in a hurry. Yes, they made up, sort of. Basically, Ace just came around again. They still didn't really talk.

He yawned as he made his way to the canteen. There had been no fire tonight, but he had been training the whole day. He knew he should go home, a narcoleptic attack was lurking around the corner. But he had to have coffee first, otherwise he was sure to fall asleep riding his motorcycle. He couldn't have that. Again. His grandfather would have a fit.

When he entered the canteen, he saw an unknown man standing, drinking coffee. He had a brown pompadour like hairstyle and a black goatee on his chin. A scar ran around his left eye.

"You new here?" Ace asked, strolling over to the coffee machine.

The other man started to laugh. It worked contagious and Ace couldn't suppress a smirk.

"No, I'm just a visitor. But I had to try the coffee, to see how awful it is."

The fireman snickered. "And what is your verdict?"

"Pretty bad." The man made a face. Then he place his cup on the table and looked at Ace. He wasn't checking him out, his look was just one of curiosity. "Aren't you cold dressed like that?"

The freckled man looked down to his bare chest and shorts. "Nah. I'm never cold," he said a little proud.

The man stroked his goatee musing. Then suddenly he smacked with his hand against his forehead. "Ah, I forgot. I'm Thatch." He stuck out his hand.

"Ace."

Thatch smirked. "Yeah, I can read."

Ace looked at his arm and snickered.

"So, couldn't the tattoo artist spell, or something?" The brown haired man pointed to the crossed out S on the fireman's arm.

The freckled man smiled wryly. "That's what a lot of people think, but no. There's actually a story behind that…"

Thatch shook his hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, no worries. I'm not here to pry."

Ace started from his thoughts. He had been about to spill the whole story, until Thatch reminded him they only just met. The man was really easy to talk to. "So, er, you were visiting someone?" he changed the subject.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps you can help me with that. I'm looking for my brother."

"Is he a fireman?" Ace asked, thinking hard if one of his buddies mentioned his brother stopping by.

"No, he's the arson inspector. Name's Marco."

The black haired man's head perked up. "Really? You're his brother?"

Thatch looked like he just offended him. "What, don't you see the resemblance? I know I'm a lot more handsome, but–"

"Not even the slightest resemblance," Ace interrupted him, always straight forward.

Thatch looked at him surprised for a second and then burst into laughter. "I like you kid. You don't beat around the bush. Marco and I are foster brothers, actually. All our brothers are adopted. Big family."

Ace was a bit thrown off guard by all this. It wasn't that he really imagined what Marco's family would look like, but still he hadn't expected this. He always got the impression the arson inspector was rather alone. But maybe that was the result of growing up in a large family. He couldn't help but smile now he learned a little more about the blonde.

"I haven't seen Marco today, but I've been busy. He has an office upstairs, second door on the left I think."

Thatch nodded. "Thanks. See you around!" He waved and left the canteen.

Smiling Ace grabbed a cup of coffee. That Thatch was one charismatic guy, very different from his brother. Well, from what Ace had seen.

He just took the last drink, when he heard voices coming down the stairs. He recognised Thatch's, so the other must belong to Marco. He kind of liked it. Carefully not to be caught he peeked around the corner of the doorpost.

If Ace had had any doubt they were siblings before, that fact was now confirmed by their bickering.

"Come on, I haven't got all day," Thatch teased. He was already standing at the bottom of the stairs, while his brother was barely halfway. The fire inspector held on to the handrail, while he carefully lowered himself to the next step.

"Careful Thatch, even in this condition I can still kick your ass," Marco grouched back.

"I'm sure you can, but the stairs seems to be beating you!"

Shooting insults back and forth the two made their way to the exit. Thatch turned his head and winked at Ace. Marco followed his brothers look. He stared at the fireman for a moment, before exiting the building without saying a word.

Ace couldn't resist and ran over to the window, watching the brothers leave. Apparently Thatch said something teasing again, because he gave Marco a playful punch against his shoulder. The eyebrow of the arson inspector twitched annoyed. Suddenly he threw his crutch aside and in a blink of an eye he had laid his brother low. He knelt down next to him, placed Thatch's against his chest and twisted his hips. That had to hurt.

Ace stood in awe. He really had misjudged the arson inspector. That was an aikido move he just did, wasn't it? And he had to be good, to be able to floor a strong looking man like Thatch. So why the crutch?

But at least it appeared that that nice ass belonged to a person in better shape than he initially had thought.

~ To be continued

* * *

[1] Aikido is a Japanese self-defence sport, in which you don't need a lot of strength. I actually practice it myself (though I'm not remotely as good as Marco is ^^;) I tought it would be a fitting sport for him.

* * *

So that was the first chapter. I'm not sure yet how often I will update (at least not for six weeks, as I'm in Norway without a computer :3) Please let me know what you think :)

Untill next time! ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, it took a bit longer than I thought, but here it is: the second chapter!

Thank you for all your kind reviews, they really make me want to write more (yes folks, that's a hint ;) ) Also a thank-you to my pre-reader, Vergina-spva (and to her fans and followers, no worries, I'm making sure she writes ;) )

Please enjoy ^^

* * *

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 2

"So, you like it here?" Thatch asked as Marco put on his seatbelt in the passengers seat.

The blonde shrugged. "It's a job."

His brother was used to his lack of enthusiasm about, well, a lot of things, so he just asked: "Are you getting used to not almost dying on a daily basis?"

Marco shot him a dark look, but then sighed. "The job's okay, I guess." He didn't mention that the job wasn't very exciting, but made bearable by a certain raven haired fire fighter.

Thatch hummed and put on his left direction indicator. They were headed to the man who adopted them, Edward Newgate, or Whitebeard as he was known to most, but his children all called him Pops. Marco hadn't seen him since he moved, because it was nearly impossible to get to the house by buss. So when Thatch had offered to pick him up, he had seized the opportunity with both hands. He really needed to talk to Pops.

"You seem to have nice colleagues," Thatch broke the silence again.

Marco looked at his brother suspiciously. "You've talked to my colleagues? Even I don't do that."

"You should. After all, you used to be a fireman."

The blonde shrugged.

"Well, anyway," Thatch continued, "I was trying out the cheap rubbish they call coffee, when a young fireman entered the kitchen and we talked for a while. Cute kid. What was his name again? Ah, yes, Ace. He had it tattooed across his arm, like he might forget it." He laughed.

Marco on the other hand sat frozen in his seat. Why, of all the people working in the fire station, his brother had to run into his secret crush? Granted, out of all his brothers he least minded Thatch to meet Ace, as he was, well, the most normal and very much of a people person.

But not even Marco had talked to the freckled fire fighter properly! And perhaps that was better for everyone, as now he was nothing to Ace but a colleague. But he knew Thatch, his brother was a very charismatic guy and had a lot of friends. He wasn't into men, so the blonde didn't have to worry about them dating, but even if they just became friends… He couldn't have that. Inevitably he would come face to face with Ace again, something he was trying to avoid as much as possible not to be tempted to do things to the handsome fire fighter.

But he couldn't forbid Thatch to be friends with Ace, could he? His brother wouldn't listen to him, even if he was the older one. Plus, he had to admit to himself reluctantly, there was another reason he didn't want Ace and Thatch to be friends. A very childish one. He didn't want Ace to like his brother more than him.

Being lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Thatch studying him until he spoke again. "So, don't you talk to your colleagues because you don't like them or– Oh wait, I get it," he interrupted himself, a grin on his face. "You're too shy to talk to the kid because you like him!"

Fuck, Thatch knew him too well. They had always been close. Still, he wasn't going to admit his brother was right, at least about the liking part. He wasn't shy. So he just raised his eyebrow and looked at the brown haired man as if he was crazy. "Are you kiddin'? You said it yourself, he's practically a kid. I'm way to old for him."

He had tried to convince himself that was true.

"Age is no object in love," Thatch said overly dramatically. "Plus," he added in a teasing tone, "you totally like him. You do that jaw-clenching thing, which you also did when you were fourteen and you liked that boy. What was he called? Ah, I'm so bad with names." He scratched the back of his head.

Marco shot him a deadly look. "I do not like this _kid_." He put extra emphasis on the last word. "And would you please keep your eyes on the road? I didn't survive that fire to die in a car crash."

Thatch shook his head in disdain, but didn't push the subject any longer. The rest of the way they sat in silence.

When the large house he grew up in loomed up in the distance, Marco's mood picked up and he smiled a little. The building actually used to be an orphanage and Whitebeard was the owner, but all the boys who grew up in there regarded him as their father and each other as brothers. Marco was one of the oldest. The youngest of his brothers were about twenty now, around Ace's age, he thought wryly.

After the last orphans had been brought in, the government stopped financing and they couldn't have any new boys. He had already been living on his own by then. But even though no more new boys nor more money came, Whitebeard had always stuck with his sons, as he always called them. Even after they had grown up.

Thatch parked the car and got Marco's crutch out of the trunk. He never held a grudge for long and helped his brother up. "You missed your old home?" he asked.

Marco nodded and got a package out the back of the car. "It's been a while since I saw Pops. How's he doing?"

"Like usual. He has been ordered to stay in bed, because his health is failing according to the nurses, but he is lively as ever."

Marco smirked, that sounded like the man he regarded as his father.

Together they walked to the house. Whitebeard's room was on the top floor and there was no elevator, so it took Marco awfully long time to get there. Thatch was patient as ever and strolled next to him, even though the blonde preferred he just walked on ahead. He hated it when people had to wait for him.

Finally they knocked on Whitebeard's door and entered after they heard the old man's voice loudly inviting them in.

"Hey Pops," Marco greeted him. Whitebeard did look quite the same as he had last time, with his large, white moustache, wearing a black bandana and being bare-chested. He was hooked up to oxygen tubes and life support systems.

"It's good to see you again, sons," Whitebeard said with a large grin on his face. "Did you bring my 'medicine'?"

Marco held up the wrapped bottle he was holding. "Of course. Just don't let the nurses find out, okay? We'll get scolded, since you've been ordered not to drink anymore." He unwrapped the bottle of rum and handed it to his old man, who opened it and took a long drought. After that he sighed contently and remarked: "Doctors and nurses are wrong all the time. You of all people should know that."

Marco grinned, but then got serious again and shot Thatch a look. His brother held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Yeah yeah, I get it. You want a little father-son time. I'll be in my old room."

After the brown haired man had left, Marco sat down , staring at the floor and trying to find the right words to begin. Whitebeard waited patiently until he was ready, taking a sip of the booze every once in a while.

"I started as an arson inspector in Sabaody," he finally begun. The older man nodded, he already knew that of course, but Marco needed to start somewhere.

"The job's fine," he continued. "But–" He thought back to his first day as fire investigator, when he looked out of the window and first laid eyes on Ace. His broad back, muscular chest, that boyish smile…

"There's a kid working there, a fire fighter." Fuck, this was hard, even though he knew Whitebeard wouldn't judge. He would just listen and that was exactly what Marco needed. He wasn't looking for advise, he just needed to get it off his chest. "I know him. I met him when he was a boy." He took a deep breath. "The night _it_ happened." He didn't need to specify, Whitebeard knew what he was talking about. "I promised him…" He shook his head. "I don't think he recognized me, but I know it's him. Only now he's grown up and–"

This seemed to catch Whitebeard's attention. The older man looked up from his bottle and looked at his son curiously.

Marco sighed, but kept his eyes lowered. "He's turned into quite a man. And apparently a great fireman."

Silence fell in the room, only broken by the sound of Whitebeard swallowing the rum. Finally his old man said: "Have you talked to him?"

The blonde shook his head. "Thatch has," he added bitterly.

Whitebeard nodded and took another sip, placing the bottle on his nightstand with a look bang. "You should as well."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you passing out advise, Pops?"

Whitebeard roared with laughter, filling the entire room. "Since you think you don't want it, but definitely need it, son."

The blonde rose to his feet, shaking his head. "I'll go get Thatch." He exited the room and strolled over to his brother's bedroom– which was at the same time his, they had shared a room growing up – where Thatch lay waiting on his bed.

"So, you're done pouring out your heart?" the brown haired man asked teasing.

"He's all yours," Marco answered, sitting down on his own former bed. "But I must warn you, the old man is giving out advise now."

* * *

Over the next couple of days Whitebeard's words kept haunting him. '_Talk to him_,' he had said, but Marco couldn't. He couldn't bear the thought of Ace hating him, even if the young man already did, he didn't know Marco was the one he hated, if that still made sense. So he kept to himself, avoiding the freckled fireman.

His body didn't agree with him, however, and often he caught himself gazing out the window when Ace was in the training area, either working out or doing something else, though Marco preferred to watch the first.

Well, he did, before he witnessed what happened today.

It was a very hot day. Not that that affected Marco, he was never really bothered by heat. So his work didn't suffer from that. It was, however, very stuffy in his office. Marco rose and turned around to open the window. And froze in his tracks.

The fire fighters had apparently decided it was too hot to work. A bunch of them had been washing the trucks when it suddenly had turned into a water fight. Laughing loudly a certain freckled fireman came running outside, closely followed by a colleague holding a bucket of water. Ace tried to duck away, but the content of the bucket landed all over him. He stopped running, still grinning, and wiped the water and hair out of his face.

Marco stared down. Could the fireman look any hotter? He was dripping with water, shirtless like usual and his pants hanging low on his hips. Slowly the blonde opened the window like he planned, his eyes never leaving the young man below and trying very hard not to drool.

Suddenly Ace looked up to the window and grinned broadly.

Instinctively the blonde took a step back. He had been caught! He took a deep breath. No, he had just been opening the window and glanced outside by chance, where happened to be standing the hottest man he had ever laid eyes on.

The arson inspector stumbled back to his chair –he often forgot to use his crutch lately – and tried to get his heartbeat under control. So much for avoiding Ace and not getting noticed.

* * *

Somehow he kept forgetting that the fire investigator was working there. It was almost like he was avoiding Ace, that little the fireman saw of him. But that was probably a little paranoid. What reason could the blonde possibly have for that?

There was something about him Ace found intriguing, though he didn't know what it was exactly. All he knew was that he wanted the man to talk to him. He had heard his voice, and he liked it, but now that he thought about it, the fire investigator had never spoken with him.

Deciding to make that happen, Ace went inside, still dripping with water. The blonde had been in his office all day, so he probably wouldn't mind some distraction, would he?

The freckled man grabbed a towel and made his way up the stairs, leaving the other firemen with the water fight. He hardly ever had any business upstairs, sometimes he had to report himself to the station manager when he had overslept again, but there weren't that many offices. In front of the second door on his left he stopped, hesitating for a moment. Did he really want to disturb the arson inspector? He shook his head. Marco seemed nice enough, so he probably wouldn't mind. And Ace wouldn't stay long if he noticed he was unwanted. So he knocked on the door.

To his surprise no answer came. A bit disappointed he wanted to turn around, when he changed his mind and carefully tried the doorknob. The door wasn't locked. Ace peered into the room. The office was smaller than that of the station manager, the only furniture were a desk and a file cabinet.

Curiously the raven haired man entered the office. Marco had a large window with a view on the training area. Ace just wondered if it wouldn't be frustrating to watch other people work out when the blonde himself had to walk with a crutch, when he noticed said crutch leaning against the wall and its owner nowhere in sight. The freckled man smiled slightly. So his walking was improving, eh?

The computer was still on. Ace sat down on the desk chair, realising too late he would leave a wet imprint. The screen showed some sort of report and looked pretty boring. Ace almost lost interest, when he noticed that the internet browser was opened as well. He snickered. If he had such an office all to himself, he probably would look at porn all day.

But oddly enough the page showed an article about Ace. The freckled man frowned and scanned the story. It had taken place right before Marco started working at this fire station. Ace had saved a little girl out of a building that was about collapse. The reported compared him to the legendary Phoenix. Ace smiled, but did wonder why Marco was interested in something like that.

He leaned back in the chair musing. Should he wait here for the fire investigator?

Maybe he should strip and lie down on the desk naked. That would surprise the blonde! He snickered. Marco had already showed some interest in Ace, with the news article and a few weeks ago by checking him out. Though that didn't necessarily meant something. After all, he could have found the article coincidentally and even straight guys sometimes checked the fireman out.

Shaking his head Ace stood up. It was probably best to leave.

He hadn't reached the door when suddenly a mobile phone started to vibrate. It first gave him a heart attack – after all, usually people took their phone with them – but then curiosity took over. It took him a while to find the phone, it lay buried under a pile of papers – probably the reason Marco had forgotten about it as well. It was a fairly old phone, but it did have a camera. To his surprise the name on the screen was Thatch. Ace felt inclined to pick up for a moment, but that would probably get awkward. He wasn't even supposed to be there.

After a while the phone stopped vibrating. The raven haired man picked up the device. Damn, he was nosy today. He listened, but didn't hear any footsteps approach. Quickly he opened the contact list. There were a lot of male names, probably all of Marco's brothers. Thatch had told him they had many. When he saw the name of the brown haired man, he clicked on it. He decided to write the number down, perhaps it would come in handy.

He considered putting his own number in the phone, but dismissed that thought. Most people didn't appreciate it when someone touched their stuff unasked-for. He did note down Marco's number.

The arson inspector still hadn't come back. Ace got a bit reckless. Instead of leaving, he decided to view the photos on the phone. There weren't that many. One showed what was obviously a birthday party. Marco was sitting at a table with a cake in front of him, looking not very amused. Ace tried to count the candles, to find out how old the fire investigator was, when suddenly footsteps neared the door.

He cursed under his breath. Quickly he placed the phone back where he found it and looked around to see if anything else looked disturbed. The seat of the chair was still a little wet.

The footsteps stopped in front of the door. Panicking, Ace dove under the desk and pulled the chair under it, so that the seat was hidden from plain sight.

The door opened and someone walked in. Ace tried to breath as quietly as possible. He didn't really know why he hid, he could just have said he was looking for the blonde. It wasn't even a lie. But now it would be weird to come out. From his hiding place he couldn't see the person who had come in.

Marco, or at least he assumed it was, stopped for a moment, like he felt something was off. Ace heard some tossing about on the desk; the arson inspector was probably looking for his phone. Then footsteps walked away again and the door clicked shut.

Ace heaved a sigh of relief, he didn't get caught. He scrambled to his feet and gave a last glance if he really had left everything like it was. Carefully he peered around the door to the hallway. No one to be seen. Quickly he slipped out of the office and walked downstairs as casually as possible. Man, all this sneaking around really made him have to pee.

"Hey Portgas, get your lazy ass over here!" one of his fellow fire fighters yelled in his direction. The freckled man pointed to the men's room. His colleague nodded and went back to work.

Ace strolled to the restroom. Fortunately he didn't see Marco anywhere. Until he opened the door of the men's room.

The blonde had his back turned to the door as he was standing in front of a urinal. He turned his head slightly when he heard someone coming in. Ace considered fleeing. He felt very guilty about snooping through the arson inspector's stuff, even if the man didn't know it. But he had already been noticed, so he tried to act casually. He had to pee anyway.

He stood next to Marco, zipped open his pants and nodded to the blonde. He earned a nod back along with a curious look. He resisted the urge to peek.

Marco flushed and walked to the sink. Ace was done as well, but pretended not to be, in order not to risk having a conversation. He was almost relieved when a sound of a phone vibrating sounded and Marco reached into his pocket. "Marco," he answered it.

Ace zipped up – after all, how long can a guy be busy peeing? – and strolled over to the sink, watching the blonde from the corner of his eye. Marco was looking at him, until he noticed Ace was looking back. "So it's just the four of us, hm? Well, I'll see you tonight at my place then," he continued his phone conversation.

The freckled man pricked up his ears. Four of them? So that had to be Marco, and the person on the other line was probably Thatch, who tried to get hold of the blonde again. Maybe the other two were brothers as well?

Why was he so nosy? Usually he didn't stick his nose in other people's business – except his friends' love life of course. But the arson inspector triggered something in him. He really wanted to find out more about this man.

"Don't forget to bring the carts. I seem to have lost mine." Marco peered in his direction and Ace realised he was washing his hands for a very long time. Hastily he turned off the tab and dried off his hands.

"Yes, I'll do that. See you tonight."

The conversation had come to an end. Ace had to bite his tongue not to say: "Give Thatch my regards." That would get awkward.

Marco put away his phone. This would be the perfect time to strike up a conversation. Only… Only he had no idea what to say. What the hell? He never had trouble talking to people!

The blonde made his was through the door, looking back one more time before leaving Ace alone. Groaning he let his head fall against the wall. What was happening to him?

Maybe it wasn't too late! He ran out the door, but instead of Marco he smashed into an angry Smith. "What the hell, Ace? I told you to hurry up! What the fuck, how long can a guy pee?" And he was dragged by his ear to the trucks, just in time to see the arson inspector heading upstairs – slowly, but without his crutch.

"Were you just in the men's room with Fenwick?" Johnson asked after Smith had let go of Ace's ear and he was rubbing the sore spot.

The freckled man frowned. "Yeah, guy's gotta pee." He wasn't shy about his sexual preferences, he liked both men and women, and his co-workers knew and accepted that. But Johnson made it sound like he jumped the arson inspector in the restroom – which he wouldn't have mind had he had the courage.

"You should stay away from him," Jones added, a young woman with short, spiky hair.

He raised his eyebrow. "We were peeing, not having a whole heart-to-heart. And besides, what is so bad about him?" He looked at his fellow fire fighters challenging, who all seemed to know something he didn't. It annoyed him, but he was also dying to find out more about Marco.

Jones flicked her eyes to the stairs, as if to check if the fire investigator didn't come down again. "Well, for starters, no one knows what he did before he came here. His whole past is a mystery."

"Maybe he likes to keep to himself," Ace shrugged. He started to wash one of the fire trucks and tried to behave casual, but on the inside he was getting nervous. He didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Yeah, this is his first job as arson inspector, manager said so," Johnson added.

"So maybe he had a career switch." The black haired man got a bit annoyed. He didn't like his colleagues badmouthing Marco.

"Then why so secretive? Even if you're pee-buddies now, I'm telling you, he is either in the witness protection programme or he is a very good criminal trying to hide it with a normal, boring job. And with a father like his, I'm inclined to think the latter," Jones stated.

That confused him. "Father? What has his father to do with anything?"

"His father is Edward Newgate."

He stared at her blackly.

"Whitebeard?"

That name did ring a bell, but he wasn't sure where he knew it from. Still, even if this Whitebeard was bad news, it didn't mean Marco was a criminal too. He just didn't believe it.

"You guys are idiots," he said shaking his head.

* * *

But still something didn't sit well with him. That afternoon he was off at four o'clock. Getting his motor cycle, he decided to take a detour before going home. The police station was about a fifteen minute drive.

"Hey Smokey," he said to captain of the police force, while sitting down on the latter's desk.

"What the hell, Portgas! Get outta here before anyone sees you!" Smoker hissed sharply.

"Relax, I here to see Gramps."

Ace's grandfather Garp was the chief of police in Sabaody. Smoker always was very private about whatever it was he and the freckled man had, but of course he was even more careful when it came to Garp. After all, the chief would hardly like to find out that his captain was screwing his grandson, and wasn't interested in a relationship whatsoever. Ace had often considered using his grandfather as an argument to get Smoker to date him. But lately he felt less and less inclined to do so, all because a certain blonde was getting inside his head.

"Then get your ass off my desk," Smoker huffed. A few desks over a dark haired young woman with red glasses looked up.

Ace grinned at her and jumped on the floor. Then he turned to the captain again. "I thought you liked looking at my ass." He kept his voice down so only Smoker could hear, because even though teasing his fuck buddy was so much fun, he would like to stay alive. Which seemed less likely to happen, there was practically steam coming out of Smoker's nose. So he quickly changed the subject: "Look, I just need you to check your database to see if someone is in there. Then I'll get out of your hair."

Grumbling Smoker clicked on some things in his computer. "Alright, who are you looking for?"

"Marco Fenwick."

"Fenwick with CK?"

He shrugged. He had no idea.

The captain grunted again and typed in something. Then he shook his head. "No one by that name, in every spelling I could think off."

Ace heaved a sigh of relief. Marco didn't have a criminal record. So he was innocent, or just never caught, Ace couldn't help but think. "What about Edward Newgate?"

Smoker looked up sharply and squinted suspiciously. "Why do you want to know about Whitebeard?"

"Just look him up, okay?" the raven haired man said a bit annoyed. Then a teasing smile appeared on his face and he leaned in, whispering: "If you do as I ask, maybe I'll stop by tonight."

Smoker looked at him like he was hoping Ace would spontaneously burst into flames – which, if it would happen, would probably won't harm the fireman, for some reason flames never seemed to touch him. Giving up, the older man turned to the computer again. "Sorry, the file is confidential."

"Aw, come on! You can tell me." Ace pouted and hoped he looked adorable.

Smoker sighed annoyed. "No, _I _can't get into the file, because it is confidential. I need more clearance."

The fire fighter chewed his lip a bit worried. Marco's father did have a file, even a confidential one. That didn't necessarily have something to do with the arson inspector, but still…

"Now will you please leave?" It didn't sound so much like a question, it was more of an order.

Ace snorted, but as he walked away he was sure to wiggle his hips more than necessary. Just to annoy Smoker.

* * *

"I'll raise twenty." Thatch threw two chips of ten on the small pile in the middle of the table, looking rather smug.

Marco sighed and folded, just like Izo and Vista, their brother had the worst poker face ever. It was a good thing they didn't play for money, Thatch would have been broke by now. They stopped playing for money a long time ago, because it was either that, or Marco wasn't allowed to play anymore. Unlike the brown haired man, he did have a poker face.

"So, how are things with your sexy fireman?" Thatch asked teasing while he showed his flush conceited and claimed the few chips that were in the jackpot.

Marco's jaw tightened, he tried to relax it while he shuffled the cards. He didn't need Thatch to point out his annoying habit when it came to Ace. So he decided to ignore his brother and dealt the cards. His other siblings became very interested, however.

"What fireman?" Izo asked with shining eyes.

"Didn't I tell you? When I picked up Marco a few days ago to take him to Pops, I met one of his colleagues. A young fire fighter by the name of Ace."

"Thatch," the arson inspector said warning.

"What does he look like?" Izo pretended he didn't hear Marco's tone.

The brown haired man thought for a moment, as a straight man he wasn't used to describe guys. "Tall, black hair, broad shouldered…" He grinned and slapped the blonde on the back. "Just like our Marco likes it."

His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Can we please just play, instead of discussing my love life?"

"Come on, he seemed like a nice kid. Why don't you ask him out?"

He sighed. "I have my reasons."

"Is it 'cause of your accident? 'Cause you're almost able to walk again without crutches," Izo meddled in. He smiled mischievously. "And if there is something wrong _down there_, there are always pills you could take…"

A vein in his forehead started to throb dangerously.

"And what fireman wouldn't want you?" Thatch continued, oblivious to Marco's murder tendencies. "You're the king of fire fighters. You're the Phoenix, for Pete's sake!"

His fist slammed down on the table, making the chips rattle together. "Listen carefully, I'm not the Phoenix anymore! Not after my accident. Do you understand? The Phoenix is dead!"

Silence filled the room. Both Izo and Thatch looked to the table pouting. Vista, who had kept aloof from the conversation so far, plucked his large black moustache pensive. "Isn't it a distinctive quality of a phoenix that it can get reborn in fire?"

"Yeah," the brown haired man grinned and looked at Marco with shining eyes. "Or perhaps in the arms of a hot fireman."

~ To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Aaah, sorry to make you wait again! I had a bit of trouble writing this chapter, but I did it! :D

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing You guys are all so kind that it makes me want to write faster (and more sure I'm gonna disappoint you at some point ^^; ) Thanks Vergina-spva for pre-reading again!

A little (and perhaps late) warning: the ZoroSanji side of this story (called Hot as Fire) contains spoilers for this one, as I'm further along with it, so if you don't want to read ahead, you shouldn't read that story yet (I know, strange advertizing for my own stuff :P) If you are reading it, don't worry, there are a lot of things you don't know yet and won't find out via HaF, so this story shouldn't be too boring (I hope ^^; )

As always: enjoy :)

* * *

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 3

"You're quiet tonight."

Ace didn't turn to the captain of the police force. He just got up and started to dress himself. "I thought you liked that," he said emotionlessly.

"Oh, I'm enjoying the silence alright. It's just unusual."

The freckled man sat down on the bed again with a sigh after buttoning up his pants, still not looking at Smoker. The captain grunted and took a long draught from his cigar. "Fine, I'll bite. But this is the only time I'll ask you this, understood?"

Ace nodded obediently, knowing how rare this occasion was and desperately wanting to make use of it.

"What's on your mind?"

He managed to wait a second before bursting out: "There's this guy–"

Smoker groaned. "Of course there is."

"Would you shut up and let me talk?" the freckled man snapped.

The captain glared at him, but let him continue.

"He's working at the fire station for a few weeks now. It's not that I _like_ him..." Smoker rolled his eyes, but didn't interrupt him. "But I can't talk to him," the raven haired man finally said.

"Since when do you have trouble talking to people? When we first met, the first thing you asked me was: 'Can I suck your cock?' And naive as I was, I said yes. Maybe you can try that as well on this poor bastard."

Now it was Ace's turn to glare. "Shut up, that's not… entirely true. I said 'hi' first." He let himself fall back on the bed. "Besides, he doesn't seem like the type that's into just sex. And I'm… I'm not sure I want that with him either."

Smoker looked at him sceptically. "Why, is our free spirit Ace finally ready to have a relationship?"

"You're one to talk."

"I'm married to the job."

The raven haired man snorted. "And what makes that me, your mistress?"

The smirk on the police officer's face was somewhat unsettling, so he continued: "Anyway, I just want to know more about him. I didn't find much out snooping around his office…"

"You know I'm a cop, right? I could arrest you for breaking in," Smoker remarked.

"Yeah, but I know you won't do that. Since my ass will come with me to jail," he said teasing , sitting down on the older man's chest. The captain was just about made a – presumably – snide remark, when Ace's head snapped up. "Wait, you can access people's files, right? Not just if he has a criminal record, like you already did, but personal stuff, like when and where he's born, former employers and such?" He bounced up and down excitedly, much to Smoker's chagrin.

"Stop using me like a damn trampoline! And yes, I can, if someone's under investigation. But I'm not going to check out your boyfriend-to-be."

"He's not… Anyway, why not?" Ace pouted.

The captain sighed and sat up, causing the freckled man to fall backwards on the bed. "Because I know colleagues who have done that with their partners. But it always transpires and it is never appreciated. If you want to know something about this guy, ask him."

The fireman sighed, but nodded anyway. Smoker was probably right. He already felt guilty after snooping around in Marco's office, he wouldn't be able to look the man in the eye if he let the policeman figure out things about him.

The older man looked down on him, shaking his head. "Annoying brat. Now, take off those damn pants."

* * *

Slowly Marco lowered himself, his front leg slightly bent, the rear one stretched and his back straight. The dojo was currently empty aside from him. There was only so much aikido movements he could practice without a partner, but he had noticed that these kind of exercises had helped improve his walking and they helped him clear his head. Which he definitely needed right now.

The poker game from the previous night played back in his head. Thatch and Izo had gone on and on about his crush on Ace, teasing him and basically making his life hell. He had hoped – in vain – that Vista would be on his side, but the man was a romantic after all. Marco had tried to change the subject, but when that didn't work he had cleaned them all out, in revenge.

At work he hadn't been able to concentrate, the words of his brothers still haunting him. This was the first time today he could just relax.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, not having realised he had closed them. Ten pair of curious looking eyes stared at him. He cleared his throat and straightened. The ten children were still looking at him. "My apologies, it seems like I lost track of time. Good luck with your training." He bowed at them for good measurement – one has to set an example for the kids – and left the mats. He was just on his way to the changing rooms, when one of the kids said: "But Sensei isn't here yet."

He stopped and turned around. "Okay, who's your Sensei?"

"Isoka-san," the girl who had spoken before said.

He nodded. "So you practice aikido as well. That's good. I will go see if I can find her."

"But we only have an hour to train," another girl said pouting.

"Can't you start the training? Until Sensei is here?" a third asked. "You're good, right?"

Marco was surprised to say the least. These kids wanted him to train them? "I don't know…"

"Please, Sensei."

He looked down at the small boy that pulled on his hakama [1]. He had black hair, freckles and big brown eyes that looked at him pleading. The resemblance he bore with a young Ace was dazzling. The blonde swallowed. "A-alright. I'll help you warm up and put you to work and after that I'll try to find your _real_ Sensei."

Happy the children skipped over to the mats, while he took position opposite of them. Isoka had drilled them well, they sat down on their knees and bowed to him as he did the same for them, without having to tell them so. He gestured them to rise and introduced himself.

During the warming up he studied the children as they copied all of his movements. The group consisted of seven girls and three boys between the ages of ten and twelve. His eyes lingered on the boy that looked like Ace. He had to remind himself this wasn't the boy he met ten years ago. That boy was all grown up now. This boy however was very clumsy. He almost hit his neighbour in the face when they were loosening their shoulders and he fell on his behind when Marco made them stretch. The blonde decided that was enough warming up for one day.

"We'll start simple, with _ikkyo omote _[2]. The first technique, to the front side," he explained to the confused looking faces. He motioned the girl who had spoken up first to come forward. He had studied them during the warming up and quickly came to the conclusion that it was a mixed group level wise. This girl seemed confident in the movements, so she probably practiced aikido for a while.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Mira."

The others laughed a little when he asked her to attack him, after all, she hardly reached his waist in height. He carefully showed the movements, but when he noticed she was indeed advanced he sped up a little. And to demonstrate aikido wasn't about strength, he grabbed her wrist and made her floor him.

The technique seemed to ring bells and the kids paired up to practice. After he had given some additional instructions here and there and he was sure all children could practice, he went to look for Isoka. But before he could reach the door, he noticed a young woman watching him.

"I was just going to tell them their training was cancelled as Isoka has broken her hip," she said when Marco approached. "But I see you already took over. Even _I _couldn't have found a replacement faster."

"I only helped them warm up and put them to work, Nojiko," he answered. "I haven't taken over."

The violet haired woman brushed aside a lock of hair. "So you're just going to leave them like this? Look at them!"

Marco turned to the mats. The children had stopped their practice and all stared at him. "Are you leaving, Marco-sensei?" Mira asked.

He exchanged a look with Nojiko. "It seems like Isoka-san can't make it to training today."

"Does that mean you will train us for the whole hour?" the freckled boy asked.

He had to remind himself over and over again this wasn't Ace, otherwise he would have done anything the boy asked. He looked at Nojiko again.

The woman sighed. "You can't leave them and I don't have a replacement. So please, just train them. Only for today."

He looked at the children again, already knowing he was defeated. The big brother in him wouldn't allow him to let those kids down. "It seems I'll be your Sensei for today," he sighed. As he made his way to the mats again, he didn't miss Nojiko's triumphant smile.

The woman left them to the training and Marco had to admit to himself he actually enjoyed teaching. At first he didn't really know what to do with the girls. His whole live had revolved around the male sex, both his brothers and his lovers. But as they proceeded, he noticed there weren't that many differences when it came to teaching. Their time was up before he knew it. After bowing he sent them away, following the boys to the changing room.

The boys used the opportunity to ask him all kinds of questions, how long he had been practicing aikido, what his worst injury had been, if he had ever used aikido moves outside the dojo. He answered all their questions patiently, until it was getting late and he had to urge them to hurry up because their parents were waiting.

When he came out of the changing room, Nojiko was waiting for him. "So, how did you like it?" she asked, with a smile that told she already knew.

He looked at her emotionlessly. "You tricked me."

"Into what? I merely asked you to take over one class. Which reminds me," she continued. "Would you mind teaching next week's class as well? And probably the week after. Just until Isoka is better."

He still stared at her. Some of the children ran by, calling: "Bye, Marco-sensei!" He looked at Nojiko again. "You tricked me," he repeated.

She smiled devilishly. "I'll take that as a yes. And I'll have my sister draw you up a contract. See you next week."

* * *

The doorbell rang, startling him awake. He groaned and got up from the couch. Stupid narcolepsy. On the doorstep a young woman was standing with short violet hair. _Oh, that's right, Nami had said her sister would stop by_, he thought. The red head had asked him in her own demanding way to keep it in his pants. Whatever, he wasn't interested in some chick.

He let Nami's sister, Nojiko if he recalled correctly, pass by him. He didn't really know why the red head had asked her sister to come to his and Luffy's house. His brother wasn't even home, but as his girlfriend, Nami claimed the right to be there. It wasn't that Ace minded that much, he just didn't get it. Though he had never been there, Nami was supposed to have an awesome apartment.

He lay back lazily on the couch, listening to the girls talking. No surprise in a conversation including Nami, it was about money.

"I appreciate you doing this so quickly. I don't want him backing out of it," Nojiko said.

"Sure, sure. You know my hourly rate."

Ace almost burst into laughter. Of course, it was typically Nami to even charge family.

"These kinds of contracts I make in my sleep," the red head continued. "Don't worry, once he signs, he's yours." She typed in something on her laptop.

"You're so evil. Then again, I need him, there aren't that many aikidoka in our dojo."

At the word 'aikido' his ears perked up. "You work at a dojo?" he asked, hopping of the couch.

Nojiko looked at him a little surprised. "Yes, I'm vice-president of our dojo."

"Not to mention a brown-belt karateka," Nami added.

Instinctively he took a step back, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Do… Do you know Marco?" he asked carefully.

She raised an eyebrow. "I know several."

He sighed. "Marco Fenwick? He practices aikido…"

"Oh yes, I know him." She pointed at the laptop screen. "As a matter of fact, Nami is currently drawing up a contract for him."

"Contract?" Pensively he stared at the screen. The document was filled with legal terms, half of the words he didn't know.

"I… persuaded him into taking over a kiddie class," Nojiko explained.

If she was anything like her sister, Ace didn't want to think of what 'persuasion' technique the violet haired woman had used. He shivered. Poor Marco.

Still thinking of the blonde he returned to his place on the couch. He imaged Marco teaching children. It was oddly fitting. He would like to see it sometime.

* * *

Marco met Nojiko the next day for coffee. How she had managed to get the contract this soon he didn't know, but the first thing she did was push it under his nose, not allowing him to back out. He wasn't planning on that anyway. He had enjoyed training the kids, perhaps because of his brother instinct.

She kept smiling a little too friendly, so he resolved into reading the contract very carefully. He was surprised to see he was actually getting paid – not much, but still. For the rest the contract consisted of many legal words, apparently a waterproof agreement. He signed anyway, what could be the worst he would agree to?

* * *

During his lunch break he was hanging out with Smith, Johnson and Jones in the canteen, like usual. He didn't really know what to say to them though. He still wasn't happy about how they gossiped about Marco, even though the part about Marco's dad might be true.

A couple of days had gone by and he hadn't followed up Smoker's advice to talk to the fire investigator. What should he say? Ask why his father had a record?

He was so lost in thought he didn't even notice his friends had fallen silent when a certain blonde entered the canteen. He only looked up when he heard the buzzing sound of the coffee machine. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed Marco. The arson inspector had turned his back towards the fire fighters, but somehow Ace got the feeling he had noticed how it had become quiet when he entered. When his coffee was done, Marco turned around, glanced over at the table with the fire fighters and left the canteen.

As soon as he was out of earshot, the raven haired man turned to his colleagues. "What the hell was that?"

Jones and Johnson exchanged a look. "We have some new information," the latter said after a moment of silence.

Ace snorted. "You mean gossip."

"Call it what you like. Do you wanna know or what?"

He sighed. "Fine, tell me."

They leaned in, like this intimate setting would help if Marco decided to enter again. "According to my source," Johnson started in a conspiring tone, "he is trying to stay under the radar because he 'has taken care of someone'."

The freckled man burst into laughter. "What's this, some kind of Mafia film? He's not the Godfather, you know."

"Maybe his dad is," Jones objected.

Ace shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact that Marco doesn't have a criminal record." When they looked at him questioning, he explained shrugging: "I know a cop."

"Well, that doesn't mean he didn't kill anyone," Johnson protested. "Just that he hasn't been caught."

Ace shook his head in disdain. "I know this isn't the most exiting town there is, but don't you think this goes a bit far? Besides, he's an aikidoka."

His colleagues looked at him like he just said he was going to wear a tutu tomorrow. "He practices aikido." Still no sign of comprehension. He sighed. "That's a Japanese self-defence sport, which is very gentle. No kicking and punching." _Thank you Zoro and your obsession with martial arts. _

"That still doesn't mean anything," Johnson said stubbornly. Apparently he was convinced they lived in some kind of movie.

"Next thing you're telling me our own arson inspector has arranged for this succession of arson cases," the freckled man said sarcastically. The minute he said it he knew he had brought a new gossip into the world.

* * *

Between the gossips that flew around in the fire station and his own thoughts, Ace had no idea what his feelings were towards the blonde. When Smoker had suggested he was interested in a relationship with the arson inspector he hadn't denied it, but he wasn't sure that was the case either. He didn't like it how the other fire fighters talked about Marco, but that was the curse of being the new guy, he supposed. The blonde either didn't know or didn't care they were talking about him, he probably preferred to mind his own business.

But to find out how he felt, Ace decided he should talk about it with someone. But who? His brother understood as much from love and attraction as he did from rocket science, despite having a girlfriend. Said girlfriend would only use the new knowledge to her advantage, which probably meant for him to get blackmailed.

He had tried to talk to Zoro, one of his closest friends, but had chosen an inconvenient timing. They were sitting in a bar drinking and someone had said something or looked at his green haired friend in the wrong way, so they ended up in a bar fight. It was quite a memorable night – and had been the most fun he had in a while – but not for the reason he intended. On further consideration Zoro was perhaps not the best person to talk to. He knew Ace too well – like Smoker – and would probably suggest to just fuck the blonde and stop whining about it. Which only left one person.

The cemetery was looking very peaceful with the sun shining on it. Ace came here every once in a while along with Luffy to visit a certain grave. His brother skipped next to him as they made their way to the place they had come to since they were children. Before a simple marble stone they stopped.

Sabo, their mutual childhood friend, had died young, years ago. His death had been very unexpected and it had taken long for Ace to accept his best friend was no longer with them.

Luffy placed the plate of food on top of the stone, a tribute to the many dine-'n-dashes they did as a child, the only food the D-brothers could ever leave alone. Sabo wouldn't have want flowers anyway. Ace and Luffy made the food themselves, they had put their everything in the dish, and still it came out burned. Maybe they should have hired a chef.

Oddly enough there was lying a bouquet of flowers before the gravestone. They had found them more often, sometimes fresh, sometimes withered. Neither of them knew who brought the flowers. It certainly weren't Sabo's parents, as they had left him for dead even before he died.

Still, this wasn't the time to dwell on the mysterious flower delivery person. The freckled man sat down cross-legged and looked at his brother. Luffy nodded, this was one of the few moments he had a serious face. At most visits to Sabo's grave Ace wanted time alone to talk to their deceased friend. The younger brother strolled away, probably going to raid the snack bar across the street.

"So, I'm back," Ace started. "Things are going well. I see Smoker from time to time. Yes still," he said a bit defensively. Sabo would disapprove of his relationship with the captain for sure. Not too long ago he sat in the same spot pouring out his heart on how Smoker was only interested in sex. "I don't want to date him anymore. This… This is about another guy."

He wondered how Sabo would have responded. He wouldn't have snorted like Smoker. His blond friend had always been able to read Ace like a book, and it would have been clear something about this guy bothered the raven haired man.

"Okay, so there is this new guy at work," he continued. "The new arson inspector. And I suppose he's kinda handsome. And has a nice ass. But I don't think I like him or anything. Not like that. There's just something about him… I don't know, he just interests, no, intrigues me. It's like we've met before, but I don't know when and why. I'm probably just being stupid," he interrupted himself. "You know? Maybe Smoker and Zoro are right, I should just fuck him and get it out of my system. Hell, it's starting to get an obsession." He laughed at himself. "And if I can't remember where we met, it can't have been important, right?" He got up and dusted off his clothes. "Thanks for the talk. I'll be back in a couple of weeks. Enjoy your food, okay? Luffy and I worked really hard on that." He had just turned around when he remembered something. "Oh, that reminds me. We have to buy a new fire extinguisher."

* * *

Sweaty and tired Ace came back into the fire station. It was a few days after his visit to Sabo's grave. He hadn't seen Marco since, nor fucked him, obviously. He started to doubt whether or not that was a good idea anyways. There was just something about that man that triggered something in Ace's subconscious, though he couldn't really grasp it. Or maybe he was just imagining it. He probably just needed a vacation or something.

He was just on his way to hit the showers, when he noticed a familiar head of brown hair. Thatch was accompanied by a person dressed as a geisha, and when he took a better look, he noticed it was a man. Grinning from ear to ear he walked up to the brothers, as he assumed they were. "Thatch, long time no see."

"You're gorgeous!" Before Thatch could say anything the cross dressed man stepped forward and inspected him from head to foot.

Ace grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"You have to let me draw you sometime."

Thatch snickered seeing the raven haired man's confused face. "Ace, my brother Izo. Izo, this is Ace."

Izo looked from the freckled man to his brother. "You mean–"

"Yes."

Still confused Ace cleared his throat. "So, what ya doing here? I haven't seen Marco come in today."

"Oh, but we're not here for him." The brown haired man produced three tickets out of his jacket.

"No freaking way!" The fire fighter snatched the vouchers out of his hand to confirm what he thought they were, namely tickets to a wrestle match he had been dying to go to. "This fight is sold out for months! How did you get these?"

"I know a guy who knows a guy," Thatch said shrugging.

Ace stared at the tickets greedily one more time before giving them back. "Well, like I said, Marco isn't here today."

"I know he isn't. He has something to take care of."

The freckled man's head snapped up. Was this choice of words really a coincidence or was it not something but _someone_ that had to be taken care of? He shrugged off those thoughts. He really shouldn't listen to gossip.

"So you're in?"

That snapped him back into reality. "Are you serious? Don't toy with me!"

Thatch grinned. "I'll take that as a yes. We'll pick you up here tonight at seven."

* * *

They entered a bar. After the fight Thatch and Izo hadn't stopped joking about Ace's enthusiasm. He didn't care, it had been a long time he had watched a live wresting match. He, Luffy and Zoro had agreed to go together to this one and he had been pretty bummed when it was sold out. He couldn't wait to rub it in their faces.

Thatch went to get drinks while Ace and Izo looked for a place to sit. They found a table in the corner where it wasn't too crowded. The brown haired man joined them, carrying two beers and a mineral water, Izo would drive back.

Ace thanked him and took a long draught of his beer. Then he heaved a content sigh and asked: "You go to these fights often?"

"Sometimes," Thatch answered playing with his bottle. "We try to stay in touch as much as we can, but you know how things like these go."

Ace nodded and let the subject rest. When he looked around, he noticed that their table was getting quite a few stares. It was to be expected, after all, their little group consisted of a cross-dressing man looking like a geisha, a man with a brown pompadour hairstyle and last but not least Ace himself, as always neglecting to wear a shirt. "If Marco had come, he would be the least the odd man out," he mused.

He only realised he had said it out loud when Thatch started to laugh. "You mean 'cause of the staring? We're used to that by now. But if we embarrass you…" he added teasing.

"Don't be stupid. I'm used to staring as well, especially when I go to a restaurant with my brother." At that moment a plate of French fries was placed on the table. Ace heard his stomach growl and he attacked the food. Thatch laughed loudly, but Izo looked at the raven haired man disapproving. "Where are you table manners?"

"Ah, just let the boy eat. But I get your point about the staring in restaurants," Thatch said grinning.

Ace wiped his mouth, a little embarrassed. "My brother's worse!"

That made both brothers laugh.

When they had calmed down a bit, the freckled man asked carefully: "So, what's Marco doing, anyway?"

Thatch took a sip of his beer and exchanged a look with Izo, making Ace feel somewhat uncomfortable. "Why you wanna know?"

"Just…" He was looking for the right words. "There are some rumours going around in the fire station about him. I know they're stupid, but the way you said it this afternoon was making it sound like they could possibly be true…"

"What kind of rumours?" Izo asked sharply, immediate in protective brother modus.

The conversation was getting more awkward by the minute. Even the ever cheerful Thatch was serious now.

"I-it's just that we don't know much about him and he's no fireman…" Again the exchange of looks. "I mean, I _know_ he doesn't have a criminal record–"

"How do you _know_ that?" Izo asked with a look that could penetrate his soul. He hadn't missed the emphasis Ace put on the word.

If the earth was ever planning on swallowing him up, now would be the prefect time. "I may have asked… a friend at the police station to check that out," he said practically inaudible.

The cross-dresser sprung up, his chair clashing backwards on the floor. "You did what?! Don't you think that Marco deserves a little more credit than that?"

If they had enough attention before, right now everyone in the bar was staring at them. Ace tried to make himself as small as possible, which was quite hard for a guy his size. He was glad he didn't mention he had tried to check out Whitebeard as well. Smoker had been right, checking someone's files unasked for always came out and was never appreciated.

Fortunately Thatch was still his calm self. "Don't be too hard on the kid," he said to his brother. "After all, he doesn't know Marco like we do." He winked at Ace, who had no idea what that meant, but was happy it happened anyway. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

"Just be glad _I _don't beat you up about it," Izo muttered while he sat down again.

Slowly everyone went back to their own business and the bar filled with chatter again after it had fallen silent during Izo's outburst.

Ace still felt miserable though. He had violated Marco's privacy, even more than when he had been snooping around his office. "I'm really sorry."

"Say that to Marco." Suddenly the grumpy look disappeared from Izo's face and a mischievous grin appeared. "Yes, Marco should punish you. After all, you've been bad, so you deserve a good spanking…"

Ace looked at Thatch, who shook his head grinning. "Don't listen to him. He likes it kinky."

Izo snorted, but the freckled man started to laugh.

"You still haven't told what I made it sound like, though," Thatch suddenly remembered.

It felt like a rock suddenly dropped on his stomach. He had hoped they were done with this subject. He didn't want the brothers to hate him. "Never mind, okay? It's stupid."

"Just tell us. Izo won't kill you, right?" Thatch gave his brother a piercing look.

"Okay." He sighed. "Some of the fire fighters – not me, of course – seem to be convinced that… Marco has killed someone." The end of the sentence sounded more like a question.

Much to his dread, Thatch didn't start laughing but exchanged yet again a look with Izo. "Where do this people get their information?" the latter asked musing, making Ace feel a little relieved.

"Just don't believe everything you hear," Thatch reassured him. "Marco's a great guy."

"He has to be. With brothers like you guys."

The brown haired man burst into laughter, while Izo said: "Hey, don't suck up to _us_ if you want to get in Marco's pa– Ouch!"

Thatch pretended he didn't just jammed his elbow between Izo's ribs and stretched himself. "Ah, that reminds me. I wanted to ask you guys something about a girl."

His brother groaned and let his head fall on the table. "Not you and your woman-trouble again."

"That's right, you're no help. Ace, help me out. You like girls, right?"

The raven haired man was caught a bit off guard by the sudden change of topic. Were they trying to find out what was his sexual preference? Nah, that wouldn't be it. Way to unsubtle. "Sure," he said. When the brothers looked at each other again, Ace continued: "Though it's been a while since I dated a woman–"

He barely finished his sentence when Izo slammed his hand on the table and laughed triumphant. "I told you he was bi! Pay up."

So they were trying to find out what he liked.

"That doesn't mean anything! Maybe he just hasn't dated in a while."

They looked at him expectantly. He scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed by their sudden attention for his sexuality. "No, I'm bi."

Grumbling Thatch got his wallet and pushed some bills in Izo hand. Ace stared at them disbelieving. "You guys bet on whether I like to sleep with guys or girls? You could have asked."

"Well, we were going to get the answer out of you _subtly_." Izo looked at his brother accusingly. "But somehow I forgot that this idiot is as subtle as a bull in a china shop. You should see him playing poker. If he had good cards, you can read that from his face. We stopped playing for money for that exact reason."

"That, and otherwise we wouldn't let Marco play anymore. The guy's got a brilliant poker face," Thatch told the freckled man.

It didn't surprise him much, the blonde's face was unreadable.

"You should join in."

Thatch's words came as a surprise. "At your poker night? Isn't that a family thing?" he asked carefully.

"Don't worry about that. If you would meet Pops, he would declare you his son right away, even if you were to take his head or something."

"Why would I want to harm your dad?" the freckled man asked confused. He looked at Izo, who pointed subtly – _he_ was able to do that – to Thatch's beer. The black haired man nodded.

"Well, next poker night is in two weeks." The brown haired man grinned and said with a wink: "And I'll make sure Marco is there."

To be continued~

* * *

[1] _Hakama_: black, wide pants. In aikido this pants one gets these pants if one is at an advanced level, it differs per dojo what level however. In ours, you get a _hakama_ when you're third _kyu_. The levels go as following: after the first exam you're sixth _kyu_, after the second fifth _kyu_, etcetera. When you're first _kyu_ and you pass your next exam, you become first _dan_, and so on, until tenth _dan_. But there are only a few people in the world who are at that level ^^;

[2] _Ikkyo omote_: one of the simplest techniques and usually the one one learns first. Explaining how the moves go exactly is virtually impossible, but if you like to see them for yourself, there are domo films on Youtube.

* * *

Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think :)


	4. Chapter 4

W0t already? 0_o

Yes, already :P I'm trying to catch up with my other story. And about that: I got a request asking to tell the people interested in reading _Hot as Fire_ (the ZoroSanji version of this story) how much of it they can read. Well, after this chapter there is only one more chapter before _Reborn in Fire_ catches up with _Hot _ chapter 1. Of the latter chapter 1 and 2 are relatively safe to read. In chapter 6 of _Reborn_ however there will be repetition with those chapters, but now from Ace's point of view.

Thanks to Vergina and all you guys for reading ^^ Oh, and the songs in this chapter aren't mine (yes, there are songs :P) ;)

For now, enjoy ^^

* * *

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 4

"You did what?!"

On the other end of the line Thatch grinned. "Hey, don't blame me. You couldn't make it and we had three tickets."

Annoyed Marco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Have you counted our brothers lately? You could have easily invited someone else!"

"That's true. But blame Izo, he wanted to see the guy that gets you all weak in the knees for himself," his brother answered teasing.

The blonde's eyebrow twitched. It was a good thing they talked over the phone and not in the same room, for Thatch at any rate. Usually he tried to solve things without violence, as he was thought in aikido, but both Izo and Thatch gave him serious murder tendencies. "Didn't I tell you not to meddle in my love life? Stop trying to become friends with him, because nothing is going to happen!"

"Oh?" The brown haired man sounded a bit too innocent. "Because thanks to Izo and me, we have some information that might interest you."

He waited purposely, much to Marco's annoyance. Still, he had to admit he was intrigued. What could they have found out? Did Ace knew who he was? "Fine. Tell me." He tried to sound uninterested, but his heart was beating in his chest.

"First promise me not to kill me the next time you see me."

The arson inspector sighed. Was he getting this predictable? "Alright. I promise."

"Okay, you ready?" When his brother grunted irritated, Thatch hastily continued: "He's bi."

Marco fell silent. His heartbeat was going fast. He had tried to convince himself the fireman was straight, a good reason for him not to try anything, were he not able to resist the temptation that was Ace. But if he was bi that meant Marco stood a chance and… No, he wouldn't go there. He wouldn't try anything. He couldn't.

"So, now you can finally ask him out," Thatch said like he had just fixed everything.

Marco gritted his teeth. "You think I'm shy? I have my reasons not to ask him out, and I don't need your help with that. You make it sound like I'm in love with him. I'm not. He's just a kid that happens to work with me. Quit your meddling!"

With that he hung up. He felt bad for yelling at Thatch like that. His brother had no idea how he felt and how his conflicting feelings ate him up inside. He hated it, and cursed himself for acting like a teenager. Why was this happening to him?

* * *

"Do I have to be naked?"

"Sit still. I can't work with you squirming."

"It's taking so long…"

"Quit whining. It takes time to create art."

Ace sighed. Posing had sounded like a lot of fun. He had been a little surprised when Izo had requested him to take off his clothes – but what the hell, he wasn't shy. He was a glad he wasn't one to get cold, not that he had anything to worry about. But it felt like he had been posing for hours. Granted, he was allowed to take a different pose every once in a while, when Izo started on a new charcoal drawing, but the cross-dresser hadn't shown him anything yet.

He stretched and yawned, immediately to be reprimanded by Izo and taking his former position reluctantly. He did trust the other man's skills, he had seen other drawings and paintings, which were really good. Lots of naked people, though. Izo was an artist, which kind of explained his eccentric look.

The cross-dressing man sketched some extra lines and then eyed his work scrutinizing. Finally he nodded. "Okay, I'm done."

Excited Ace bounced over to him, uncaring about the fact he was still naked. Peering over Izo's shoulder, he whistled admiringly. "Wow, I'm hot!"

The cross-dresser pursed his lips. "Usually I would say I made you look hot, but I can't deny the obvious."

Ace grinned and leafed though the drawings. Izo had talent; he had drawn Ace life like, everything in the right proportion.

"You can pick one out if you like, but I also like to exhibit a few of them, if that's okay with you," the artist said.

The freckled man grinned from ear to ear. "Sure. I've never been on display before."

* * *

Time flew by and before he knew it the poker evening came. In the meantime Ace still hadn't talked to Marco. He had considered it, he really had. Just to walk up to the arson inspector and say: "So your brother has invited me to your poker night. That's cool, right?" But what if it wasn't? And Thatch should have told his brother, shouldn't he? Though Marco hadn't said anything, nor acknowledged Ace more than usual.

So perhaps Thatch wanted it to be a surprise if Ace suddenly showed up, and who was the fireman to ruin that? Besides, it was better to be able to come – even he wasn't welcome – than be told he couldn't come at all, right?

Ace couldn't help but feel nervous. Izo and Thatch had explained him that none of the brothers were related by blood, nor did they share a last name. But they regarded themselves as family. He would be the only outsider there. Thatch had laughed when he voiced his worries. Again he had impressed on Ace's mind their 'Pops' would have adopted him without a second thought had he been in need of a guardian. The freckled man hadn't been, he had his Gramps, but the thought was nice.

He wondered what it would be like to have a big family. Now all he had was his grandfather, whom he saw rarely – and when he did, it was usually the old man yelling at him – and Luffy, whom was quite a handful already. But he knew his brother had his back, just as he knew Thatch's and Izo's family – or the Whitebeard Pirates, as they called themselves – had each other's.

Ace had managed to get the night off, despite the fact that he was scheduled to work. It had taken a lot of begging and doing people some favours he wasn't proud of, but he managed. No way he would pass up a chance to see Marco in his natural habitat, so to speak. Would he behave differently around his brothers?

Unfortunately, he was still on call that night, so if a fire broke out he could be summoned. He prayed nothing would happen, despite the fact he loved his job and was very nervous for tonight, he had looked forward to it ever since Thatch had invited him.

Earlier that week the brown haired man had texted him the poker night would be held at Izo's house. He had been there before, as Izo's studio was at his own place, so he knew where he had to go. It wasn't that far from his own house, but far enough he had to take his motorcycle. Besides, if he was paged, he needed to get to the place of the fire fast.

Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. He heard shouting and loud laughter inside the house. Just as he was considering texting Thatch he had arrived, the door opened. He was greeted by a man with black hair, a fancy moustache and wearing a top head. "Yes?" he asked.

He pressed his nerves away and took a confident stance. "Hi, my name's Ace. Thatch invited me." He tried not to stare at the man's moustache, it was very impressive.

At that moment Thatch appeared next to his brother smiling broadly. "Ace, you made it. Vista, meet Ace. He's the guy I told you about."

Though he had no idea what Thatch had told about him, Ace held out his hand and was met by a very firm handshake. When Vista let go, the freckled man was suddenly holding a rose. Confused he looked at it and then to the two brothers who were both grinning. "Vista is a magician," the brown haired man explained.

The man with the moustache bowed and took off his hat. Ace laughed, impressed. This was one interesting family. He couldn't wait to see what the other brothers had in stock for him.

He was let in and Thatch and Vista lead the way to the living room, where he was greeted by Izo, who threw his arms around him. After the enthusiastic greeting he was introduced to Jozu, a big, broad-chested man with a stern look. Shaking hands, Ace was afraid his bones would break. Unexpected by his looks, Jozu turned out to be a jeweller, specialized in diamonds. Marco wasn't there yet.

One after another the brothers arrived. Ace met Rakuyo, a man with blond dreadlocks held back by a yellow bandana and a black moustache, who was a mechanic, a soldier named Curiel and Namur, who worked at the aquarium. Still no Marco though.

Ace sat down on the couch. The coffee table was littered with bottles, glasses, trays of snacks and things Vista had let magically appear. When offered a drink the fireman asked for some juice, after all, he had to stay sober in case he was summoned.

Ace dove on the food like he hadn't eaten in days, it felt like that too, even though he just ate an extra large pizza. Well, two. The other brothers ate from the food too, but oddly enough nobody touched Izo's home baked muffins. Shrugging he reached for them, earning a dramatic "Nooo!" from the others. He took a bite and looked at them expectantly. Some yaws dropped. "Nobody eats those," Thatch said in awe. "He tried to feed them to us every time, but they're inedible." It was probably a good thing Izo was in the kitchen refilling drinks.

Ace shrugged. "Nothing wrong with them." He stuffed another one in his mouth.

Izo entered the living room again and gave a happy shriek. "You like my muffins!" He hugged Ace so tightly the freckled man feared the muffins would come back out. Finally the cross-dresser let go and the fireman caught his breath as Izo resumed in serving the other brothers. "So, aside from Marco, is this everyone?" Ace asked Thatch while grabbing another muffin.

But the other man started to laugh. "No, this is about half of it."

That moment the doorbell rang again. Thatch left the living room, only to return followed by a familiar blond head of hair.

Ace's yaw would have dropped, hadn't his mouth been full with muffins. Was this the same guy he saw almost daily at work? Yes, after his first day of work, Marco had started dressing more casually, but he had never looked this good before. The arson inspector was wearing black sandals, knee-long, dark grey pants, and a light blue sash around his waist. The purple jacket hung open, showing off his bare chest.

Ace almost choked on his muffin. Sure, fleetingly he had wondered what would be beneath those clothes, but he definitely hadn't expect _this_. Though being lean, Marco's upper body had been trained well, judging from the muscles. What surprised the fireman even more was the large tattoo that adorned the blonde's chest. It showed a dark blue cross with an horizontal crescent moon pointing upwards of same colour through it.

Biting his lip, Ace could already see himself licking those muscular abs. Shit, when did this happen? Maybe he was shallow, but _damn_… He couldn't help but wonder what kind of surprises the rest of those cloths were hiding. His glance shifted to the front of the baggy, low hanging pants.

Izo however was less pleased with how his brother looked. "You could at least have worn a shirt!" he said disapproving.

Thatch burst into laughing. "You draw naked people all the time, but you offended when someone neglects to wear a shirt?"

The cross-dresser snorted. "Well, excuse me for not feeling the need to look at my brother's abs all day!"

"My washing machine broke down," Marco explained. "These were all the clothes I got left."

Rakuyo looked up from his conversation with Namur. "I'll look at it in the morning."

Marco saluted in thanks, while Izo said: "Well, alright. I was worried you started to look like him!" He pointed at Ace, shirtless as always.

The arson inspector turned around, following his brother's finger. He had obviously not noticed the fireman before, as an emotion flashed across his face. Fear? Dread? But it disappeared soon enough. Ace had just stuffed another muffin in his mouth – he really didn't understand how he could be the only one liking them, but well, more for him – and tried to grin at his co-worker. Charming. He earned a nod back.

"Thatch, could I see you in the kitchen?" Marco's stance was casual, but his tone was stern.

"Well, I'd rather stay alive," the brown haired man started, but a look from the blonde made him shut up an follow obediently. Izo hastened after his brothers.

* * *

As soon as the door closed, Marco turned around to his brothers. While trying to control his murder tendencies, he kept staring at the brown haired man. He just knew Thatch had to be behind this. "Care to explain?" he finally managed to choke out.

His brother looked at him innocently. "What would you like me to explain?"

Marco's eyebrow twitched. "Why is Portgas here?"

"You didn't tell him?" Izo smacked Thatch's arm.

"He would have killed me if I did," the brown haired man shrugged. "And besides, " he added grinning, "it was way funnier this way. You parading around half naked, showing off your abs…"

"It was nice knowing you, Thatch." Izo tapped his brother's shoulder in disdain. "But seriously, Marco, you should marry this guy! He loves my muffins, contrary to you barbarians." He snorted.

"How many times I have to tell you to stop sticking your noses into my business?!" Marco asked sharply. Inadvertently he had pulled his jacked close at Thatch's remark about his abs. When he had noticed Ace – and he still couldn't believe it had taken so long before he did – he almost had a heart attack. Fortunately he could recover quickly before he made an ass of himself. He could only hope Ace hadn't noticed his initial shock. But how Thatch had been able to lure him here, he didn't understand.

"Who says he's here for you?" Thatch decided on another strategy. "Not everything's about you, you know? I just invited a friend over." He turned up his nose.

Marco raised an eyebrow at this transparent excuse and exchanged a look with Izo.

"Now, you go have fun." Thatch shoved the blonde towards the door.

At that moment, said door flung open and Ace stepped into the kitchen holding an empty plate. "We're out of muffins–" he started, before Marco slammed into him.

Both men grabbed at their heads, which were beat together and the arson inspector turned to his brother. "Dammit, Thatch!"

"Oops, my bad." The brown haired man grinned. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Ace said, while Marco nodded. The blonde glanced at Thatch one more time, before leaving the kitchen.

The freckled man stared after him. When he noticed Izo and Thatch watching him with meaningful smiles, he exclaimed: "What? I was just wondering about his tattoo!" _And whatever is hidden in those pants…_

"Oh, that. That's our Jolly Roger," Thatch explained grinning, while Izo refilled the plate with muffins. "We all got a tattoo, except Rakuyo, who's got it on his bandana."

"Really?" Ace thought about the brothers he had met.

"Most are hidden under our clothes, usually Marco's as well, but you should have noticed Curiel's. He's got it in his chin, for Pete's sake!"

"I thought that was a goatee," Ace admitted embarrassed. He hadn't really paid attention to it, to be honest.

"Guess where mine is," Thatch said pulling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

"I really don't wanna know. Thanks for the food." He bowed to Izo and returned to the living room. Marco was talking to Curiel and Namur in the corner.

Ace took a seat on the couch. Thatch and Izo entered the room again. "So, we're gonna play poker or what?" the latter asked, placing a pack of carts on the table.

"Just wait a little longer," Curiel said. "First the First Division Commander needs to settle this."

"Commander?" Ace asked Thatch, who sat down next to him.

The brown haired man started to laugh. "Oh, that's what we call Marco. He was the first to get adopted by Pops, hence the 'First Division'. He always fixes things and looks out for us, but also gives out orders, hence the nickname. Now he's settling a dispute between Curiel and Namur. I'm not sure what they are fighting about – they have been arguing ever since they got here – but they won't listen to me anyway." He pouted a little. But then his face brightened again. "That's why we have Marco. His word is final." From his words it was obvious Thatch had a lot of respect for his brother.

Ace nodded, staring at the blonde in awe. He hadn't expect the arson inspector to have so much influence on his brothers, or that he would be this much respected. Marco was taking on the role of big brother, but he didn't look like the oldest… Ace had no idea how old the blonde was. He was just about to ask Thatch, when suddenly the music was turned up.

Surprised Ace looked at Rakuyo, who jumped on the table and suddenly started singing:

_While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo  
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo  
While goin' the road to sweet Athy  
A stick in me hand and a tear in me eye  
A doleful damsel I heard cry,  
Johnny I hardly knew ya._

He was just wondering if they would get a concert, when suddenly all brothers joined in, even the most serious of them.

_With your guns and drums and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo  
With your guns and drums and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo  
With your guns and drums and drums and guns  
The enemy nearly slew ya  
Oh darling dear, you look so queer  
Johnny I hardly knew ya._

Laughing in amazement, Ace listened to Rakuyo, who took care of the next couplet, after which the brothers joined in again. It was obvious this wasn't the first time they did this, it was too much in chorus for that. During a musical intermezzo he nudged Thatch and looked at him questioning. The man shrugged grinning. "What can I say? Sometimes we feel like singing sailor songs and stuff."

"Yeah, you're pirates alright," the raven haired man said laughing, before the next chorus started. The music and singing was accompanied by stamping and clapping of hands.

When the music died away, he stood up applauding. "That was awesome!" he exclaimed. "My family never spontaneously burst out in singing!"

Some of the brothers started to laugh. Thatch slapped him on the back. "You should. It's fun. Or," he added with a wink, "you should come by here more often."

Ace grinned at him, he would definitely like that. He got along with all the brothers very well. There was only one he hadn't spoken to, and that was Marco. Which was odd, since he worked with the man. They should have something to talk about, shouldn't they?

It appeared Marco, Curiel and Namur were finished with their talk – they had all pitched in the song as well – because the latter two shook hands and walked over to the table. Ace was just about to seize his chance to talk to the blonde – and hoping he would come up with a subject that wasn't about sucking cocks, like Smoker had suggested – when the brothers all took a seat at the table. It was time to play poker.

Izo shuffled the cards with skill, and dealt them. "We're playing _Texas Hold 'Em_. You know it?" he asked Ace.

The freckled man nodded.

"Good. Thatch, you're small blind, Jozu is the big blind."

The players bet their wages, before Izo flipped the first three cards.

Over the edge of his cards Ace looked at the person opposite of him. How he managed to take a seat right across Marco, he didn't know, but he hardly minded the view. It also gave him the time to study the man up close. Aside from his brilliant poker face – he just as well could be reading a book or something – and the usual stubble on his chin, it was only now that Ace noticed that the arson inspector had the most beautiful eyes. Beneath the sleepy eyelids light blue orbs watched the game intensely.

Suddenly Marco's glance flicked up, catching Ace's look. The freckled man felt like he was rooted to his seat. He couldn't look away, even if he had wanted to. It was like the blonde could see into his soul, but his look was warm, so Ace wouldn't mind if he could.

A vibrating feeling in his pocket gave him almost a heart attack and caused him to jump up, exclaiming "Holy crap!" and knocking over his glass. He reached for his pager, but it was what he had expected. There was a fire, and he was needed. "Ah fuck, I gotta go. Sorry about the mess," he apologized to Izo while bowing.

The man waved his apologizes away. "It's fine. We understand. Now, go save people from fire." He placed a hand on Marco's shoulder.

"Will do!" Ace bounced away, only to turn back and grabbing another muffin, before running outside.

They heard a motorcycle start outside before tearing away. Izo walked to the kitchen to get a cloth to clean the juice Ace had spilled.

"Well, that brings back memories," Rakuyo said, slapping Marco on the shoulder. "Is it weird not having to dash out during a game?"

"I'm used to it by now," the blonde answered emotionlessly.

"Well, the boy has a poker face that can compete with Marco's." Thatch flipped over Ace's cards. "He just grins at everything. Look how lousy his hand was."

"Damn, I knew for sure he had something there," Jozu cursed while throwing his cards down. In the round before he had folded.

"I told you he would make things _interesting_." The last word Thatch spoke was meaningfully directed to Marco. The blonde clenched his teeth. His brother was as subtle as a brick to the face.

"Are all your colleagues this much fun?" Namur asked.

Great, now everyone liked Ace. It was bad enough when it was just Thatch, and after that Izo. But apparently the fireman was now fully accepted and admitted to the group. "I wouldn't know," he answered Namur's question with clenched jaws. "I didn't invite him." With that he looked accusingly at Thatch.

The brown haired man shrugged. "I don't get why you're so upset about this. Everybody likes him, as I predicted. He's _your_ co-worker, for Pete's sake, and you haven't said a damn word to him. And you're gonna have to, if you want to get in his pants."

At that Marco started up from his chair and looked at his brother threatening. The other men had fallen silent. Marco didn't get mad often, but now Thatch had gone too far.

"Is that true? You like this kid?" Jozu asked carefully, as his brother was rather unpredictable when angry.

The blonde eyed him for a second before looking back at the brown haired man. "Thatch sure seems to think so."

"Look, I'm just trying to help," the brown haired man started.

"I don't need your help. And I have never asked for it. You just assumed something I have never confirmed. So, for the last time: stay out of my affairs." He made sure he spoke slowly and clearly.

"But–" Thatch tried one last time.

"That's an order!" It wasn't often he used his authority like this. He had gotten the nickname 'First Division Commander' for overseeing everything and making sure everyone did their job and got along. And yes, occasionally by giving out orders. But he didn't abuse his power. His brothers respected him and listened to him. Thatch was just a bit more thick headed.

Pouting the latter let himself fall in a chair. Marco sat down as well, rubbing his temples. Silence filled the room, aside from the music that played softly in the background. Suddenly Thatch's head picked up. He turned the music up, while starting to sing: "_All who want to sail the capes, ought to be men with beards…_" [1]

The other brothers joined in, including Marco, smiling. He could never stay mad at his brothers for long, especially when they had good intentions to begin with.

* * *

In his room Ace stared at the ceiling. After the fire had been put out – without leaving any victims, fortunately – the freckled man had been tired. It was already too late to go back to Izo's place, everyone would have gone home already. Extinguishing the fire had taken hours.

He probably should have gone home, but he couldn't get the image of a half naked Marco out of his head. So first he should take care of his horniness. And ever since he met Smoker, he didn't have to do it himself – hell, he didn't even have to before that, he never had trouble picking up people.

So he hastened to the captain's house. Smoker had been reluctant at first, grumbling something about brats showing up in the middle of the night, demanding to have their way, but eventually he had given in. But when Ace finally got the man all hot and heavy, his narcolepsy had kicked in.

Smoker had not been amused and kicked him off the bed, judging by the bruises at least. The freckled man hadn't woken up, unfortunately he was a heavy sleeper. So Smoker had thrown him out, literally. That did woke him up. The police officer refused to open the door, which pissed the raven haired man off. It wasn't his fault he fell asleep, even if he hadn't told Smoker of his condition. Ass.

Just when he had thought about leaving, he felt the lighter in his pocket. A mischievous smile appeared on his face. In his youth he had gotten in trouble for setting things on fire, but this time he had his escape vehicle ready. Quickly he flicked the lighter open and held the small flame against a dead bush, in the meantime keeping an eye on the house. The lights were still off.

The shrub was planted far enough from the house and other plants not to let the fire spread. Just enough to get Smoker's attention and piss him off. After all, he was still a fireman, even if he had sometimes slight pyromaniac tendencies. Still grinning he started his motorcycle and tore away.

He had a few hours before he had to be at the fire station again, so there was still time to get some sleep. He drove home, placing his motorcycle in the garage and hoisting himself upstairs. In his room he jumped over the comic books and laundry dispersed on the floor and let himself fall on the bed.

But despite his revenge, Ace was still angry. Not just at Smoker, also at the situation. Last night he had had the perfect opportunity to talk to Marco – hell, he had talked to all his brothers who were present! But of course there had to be a fire that night, and he had to leave early. Now he had to get invited all over again! And what if the brothers didn't like it to have an outsider present? Or worse, what if Marco hadn't liked him being there?

At times like this, when he actually was happy being narcoleptic because falling asleep would stop his hectic thoughts, his condition never kicked in. He was wide awake, staring at the sealing. After an hour he yelled at no one in particular: "Fuck it!" and strolled downstairs. He grabbed his motorcycle and headed in a random direction.

None of his friends would be up at this hour and he wouldn't survive trying to wake them up. So he resolved into driving around town randomly, silently hoping to bump into Marco or find his house. How he would recognize the latter he didn't know, but a man can dream.

He ended up finding neither and giving up, he decided to head to the fire station. It was almost time to start working anyway. He had driven around for hours. He was tired, though. Yawning he didn't pay attention for a second, just at the moment a pedestrian appeared. He saw him just in time, yanking at the handlebars. His motorcycle toppled over.

Scrambling to his feet – and silently thanking his grandfather for hammering into his head to always wear protective gear on his motorcycle – he froze when he saw who he almost hit.

Marco had been on his way to the house that burned down last night, to determine whether or not it was arson. He had stopped by the fire station to pick up his notes from previous fires caused by arson, which seemed to have a pattern. On his way to the car he had noticed the motorcycle that had come in his direction at high speed. With an agile leap he didn't know he was still capable off he had jumped out of the way at the same time the vehicle had swerved out.

He didn't know whether or not to get angry, but if he was, all anger melted away when the motorcyclist took off his helmet.

"Fuck, I'm sorry! Are you okay?" a worried looking Ace asked him.

His mouth had gone dry, so he just nodded.

The freckled man rubbed his head annoyed. "Shit, I wasn't paying attention. Didn't get much sleep. Y'know, 'cause of the fire. Took hours to put out. I'm sorry for dashing out like that, by the way. I had fun last night, before duty called, that is." He scratched the back of his head. "Ah, I guess I should have checked with you if it was okay I came. Thatch invited me and well, I kinda looked forward to it…" He knew he was babbling, but dammit, he was nervous! Marco was wearing a shirt today, but Ace could vividly picture it when he hadn't the previous night. Besides, he just almost run the blonde over, not a great way to impress someone.

Marco just opened his mouth, when he was – for the second time that day – almost hit by a motorized vehicle, a police car this time. A fuming Smoker got out. "Portgas! You've got some nerve…!"

Out of the passengers seat a woman with red glasses stepped. "Sir, think of your blood pressure!" On her way to her boss, she tripped and lost her glasses. Panicking she looked for them.

Marco looked surprised and a bit suspicious to the men that were yelling obscenities to each other, but then bent down – he still had to be careful with that, thanks to his former injury – to help the young, dark haired woman.

In the meantime Ace and Smoker were still yelling at each other. Of course, nobody could know about their private matters – not even the woman, Tashigi, Smoker's partner – so they made sure not to mention the sex in any way. Ace was starting to get more pissed off by the second, he had forgotten Marco was still present. He felt like punching Smoker in the face – the guys from boxing didn't call him Firefist for nothing.

He had barely raised his fist, when he saw a flash of blonde and in the blink of an eye he was pinned against the ground, with his arm in a painful grip. Still trying to wrap his brain about what just happened, he remembered Zoro telling him about tapping off in martial arts when it hurt – he should really thank the guy sometime. He managed to tap on the ground with his free hand and the iron grip was released.

"I apologize for interfering," he heard Marco say, before the latter walked away. A car started, Ace lifted up his head just in time to see the light blue vehicle drive off.

The freckled man scrambled to his feet for the second time that day. Smoker's jaw had dropped, the cigar he was smoking fallen on the ground. But the captain recovered quickly, though his anger had drained away. "Assaulting a police officer is a serious offence," he said sternly. "You're lucky that guy's here."

Ace stared in the direction the car had disappeared. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I guess I am."

~ To be continued

* * *

[1] This is a loose translation of a Dutch sailor song, "Al die willen te kaap'ren varen". I don't know that many sailor songs, and I like this one. But as I found out writing this chapter, it only exists in Dutch and German. If you like to hear it, there is a Dutch version by a band called Rapalje, which you can find on Youtube. There is a German version as well, preformed by Santiano, called "Alle die mit uns auf Kaperfart fahren". The versions differ (aside from language), so I recommend to listen to them both ;)

The first song is called "Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye", of which I used the version of Santiano called "Drums and Guns, Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya".


	5. Chapter 5

As usual: Thank you, Vergina, for pre-reading. And thanks to all readers and reviewers :3

* * *

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 5

Finally Tashigi had convinced Smoker that they had more important stuff to do then yell at a fireman all day, so he should either arrest Ace or they should move on. She tried to sound brave, but her partner was an intimidating man. Still he listened to her and stepped in the car, mumbling the brat wasn't worth the paperwork. Ace grinned – he knew better, after all this time Smoker cared for him at least a little. Besides, the freckled man wasn't below blackmailing the police officer as the captain was the one wanting to keep their 'relationship' a secret. But he was sure to hide his smirk for the man, as he didn't want him to change his mind.

Having watched the police car drive off, the freckled man dragged himself inside. Time for work.

* * *

It didn't take long to determine what was the cause of the fire. Much to Marco's relief it wasn't the feared arsonist, who had already struck five times in a very short period. This time it had been an accident, someone left curling iron that was turned on next to a box of tissues. He made notes and took some photo's, and after that he headed back to the fire station to start on the report.

Making his way to the canteen to get some coffee first, he stopped in his tracks in the doorway. At the table Ace was sitting, his head fallen face first on the top, and was snoring softly. The sight was very endearing and Marco couldn't help but stare for a while. Well, the young man had said he hadn't gotten much sleep. The blonde knew all about it, when he was a fireman he had missed a night of sleep every once in a while.

Suddenly he remembered something. It was common for a fire fighter to stay up all night and still be assigned for a shift in the morning. It was alright to have nap in the fire station, there was a room with beds for that exact reason. But at his former fire station when a fire fighter fell asleep in another place then the sleeping quarter, he or she could very well wake up with something drawn on his or her face, find a hand in a glass water, or be the victim on another prank. It had never happened to him, fortunately, nor had he ever participated in a practical joke like that.

He didn't know whether they were as childish in this fire station as well, but he wouldn't take the chance of letting that happen to Ace. Quickly he glanced outside to see if the coast was clear. There was no one to be seen. He walked over to the table. Careful to lift from his knees to spare his back, he managed to raise the muscular man.

The sleeping quarters were right across from the canteen. Keeping an eye out if he saw anyone – it would be difficult to explain why he cared whether or not a colleague was sleeping with his head on the table or was drawn on – he made his way over there, trying not to wake the freckled man. After all, it would be even more difficult to explain to the fireman why he was carrying him around. In the sleeping quarter most beds were empty, aside from one, of which a loud snoring sound arose.

Carefully Marco laid the still sleeping man on the lower one of a random bunk bed. Now he finally had the time to study Ace's face. As he noticed before, the man looked endearing, appearing even younger now. The thought of taking a picture crossed his mind, the camera he used at the place of the fire was still hanging around his neck. But he dismissed the thought, that would be creepy.

However, he couldn't resist caressing the freckled man's hair. It was surprisingly soft. Ace mumbled something in his sleep and seemed to lean into his touch. Hesitating for a second, afraid the raven haired man might wake up, he continued his motion.

He was so beautiful. Marco swallowed. He knew he shouldn't do this, shouldn't even be there. Ace had a boyfriend, so much was clear from what he had witnessed this morning. The police officer had reprimanded the fireman for something, but their bickering sounded a lot like a couple's would.

He sighed. He should be happy Ace was in a relationship, that would prevent him from doing something stupid like asking the fire fighter out.

But he wasn't happy. Hell, he was miserable. After Thatch had told him Ace swung both ways, even if he had forbidden himself, Marco had been exited he stood a chance. During the poker night he had been able to restrain himself not to talk to the freckled man or do something inappropriate, but that was mainly because he had been occupied for a time and after that the fireman had been summoned. It had been a good thing as well, he realised now. He would really embarrass himself if he asked the raven haired man out while he was taken.

Still, even knowing Ace had a boyfriend – and quite a scary one at that – couldn't prevent him from starting to fall in love with the freckled man.

At first he had thought it was merely physical attraction, but now he had observed the fireman some more – in a non-creepy way of course – and had seen how well the black haired man could get along with his brothers, he had learned Ace was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside – cheesy as that may sound.

Marco didn't fall in love often. Perhaps it was because the death of his parents that he tried to protect himself. But above all, his brothers always came first, and most of his partners weren't able to deal with that.

But Ace, Ace was different. He fit right into the family, he was handsome, funny and brave. A worthy man.

That was why it hurt all the more nothing could ever happen between them.

Not being able to resist anymore, Marco bent forward and kissed Ace softly on the forehead, before leaving the sleeping room, turning back only once. He didn't even notice the loud snoring on the other end of the room had ceased.

* * *

Still a little sleepy Ace rubbed his eyes and yawned. Stupid narcolepsy only kicked in when it was inconvenient. He really had to be more careful at the fire station. Nobody outside his family and friend group knew of his condition, and he liked to keep it that way. Chopper, the neighbour boy of Zoro who studied medicine, had offered some new kind of medication that should prevent the sleep attacks to happen. Maybe he should give them a try, if only because he didn't have to worry anymore to fall asleep at work.

He opened his eyes. It was a good thing he had fallen asleep in the bedroom at the fire station. It would have been awful if he had bunked down somewhere else in the station. Again. He could remember clearly how the last time his so called friends had played connect-the-dots with his freckles. He already hated the things, they made him look younger than he was, dammit!

Good thing the rule was no practical jokes in the sleeping quarter. Still, just to be sure, he checked his face in the mirror. Everything seemed fine, he looked sleepy, but other then that the only thing that decorated his face were those damned freckles. He looked around the room, but he was the only person there.

Stretching himself he sunk down on the bed again. The weird thing was though, he couldn't remember going to this room. He had gone to the canteen to get coffee, in order to stay awake. He had sat down while the coffee machine prepared his order – a double espresso, just to be sure. After that… No, he couldn't remember anything after that. Still, he had to get here someway, or had he been walking in his sleep? Or maybe someone had carried him? He dismissed the thought. He knew he was heavy – thanks to his muscles – and he couldn't think of anyone who would risk throwing their back out or passing up a chance to mess with him.

No, it had to be the sleepwalking thing. It was probably a defence mechanism of his body so he wouldn't be found out. Maybe he should ask Chopper.

* * *

When he finally got home from the shift that seemed to go on forever, his mood was immediately picked up when he noticed the envelope lying on the mat. It was an invitation to the wedding of Vivi, his ex-girlfriend and now one of his best friends.

Flapping the paper in Nami's face , he said smugly: "I told you I would get invited."

"Of course I knew you would, dimwit. I'm her maid of honour," the red head said sighing. "But believe me, I have tried to talk her out of it."

"Why?" Ace pouted.

"'Cause you're her ex, and Kohza isn't very happy with that. Contrary to popular believe, the feelings of the groom do count, you know," she answered stiffly.

That only made him pout more. "But Vivi and I haven't dated in two years! She's my friend, and I'm happy she has found her soul mate. Kohza is a good guy, I already checked that out." After the relationship between Vivi and Kohza became serious, the blue haired woman had invited Ace over to introduce them. And he was the first to hear that Kohza had proposed, even before Nami, something the red head reproached him with.

Vivi was a cousin of Zoro and they had met two years ago when she visited the green haired man in college and Ace happened to be there. He wouldn't call it love at first sight, but he thought she was hot and she thought the same, causing them to end up in bed together. That was something very unlike the girl, and she had been very ashamed of it. Overprotective as he was, Zoro made Ace ask her out – something he had already been considering – and they ended up dating for the longest period the freckled man had ever been in a relationship: an impressive whole month.

After that Vivi had realised that Ace would be happier in a relationship with a man, she said she knew he was missing something. That, and the fact he had confessed helping Zoro come out of the closet by sleeping with him – even if it was only that one time – didn't sit well with her. The swordsman was her cousin, after all.

So they decided to break up, making the cheesy promise to stay friends, which, much to Ace's surprise, was what actually happened. At first Vivi had needed some time and space, but she had gotten over him. They started hanging out, first only with other people around, but eventually they were comfortable enough to do things together just the two of them.

Vivi had met Kohza at the train station. They were childhood friends who lost contact, and now the friendship turned into something more.

"Well, I'm going, whether you like it or not. Hell, it's more likely I end up in bed with the groom than the bride," the freckled man snorted. Kohza was a blonde after all, and Ace had a weak spot for blondes. "But I'll bring a date, if that makes you feel better," he added reassuring, as Nami's eyebrow had started twitching annoyed.

Smoker was of course no option, he would twist the fireman's neck if he even put forward a suggestion like that. But he had already someone in mind to ask. He smiled mischievously. Yes, that certain blonde would do just fine as his date.

* * *

The next day Ace made sure he was well-rested when going to work. He was a little nervous now he had resolved in asking Marco to go to Vivi's wedding. Would he say yes? Or was Ace just being stupid? After all, he still didn't know whether or not the blonde was gay. Maybe he should have asked Thatch or Izo, but that would be a little inappropriate. On the other hand, those two had shamelessly inquired about his sexual preference. But unless he could think of a way to inquire it subtly, it would be pretty obvious what his intentions were, and Thatch had already proven that being subtle was pretty hard thing to do.

The freckled man shook his head. What was he thinking? He had never been shy, dammit! So he would just march to the arson inspector's office and ask him, regardless of the gossip about Marco or if he would make an ass of himself.

Feeling a little proud of his confident attitude, he climbed the stairs and after taking a deep breath he knocked on the door of the fire investigator's office. No answer came. Frowning he knocked again, a little harder this time. It stayed silent. Carefully Ace tried the handle. The door was locked.

The freckled man cursed under his breath. He finally had the courage… It was almost like someone didn't want them to get together.

Determined to find out where the arson inspector was – after all, he could easily just being running an errant – Ace knocked on the door of the station manager. He heard a grunt, which he interpreted as: "Please come in," and opened the door.

The station manager looked up a little annoyed from a pile of paper. "What do you want, Portgas?"

"Notin' much." How would he approach this inconspicuously? "I just noticed how quiet the station was today."

"Is it?" The station manager rubbed his chin. "I'll have to look into that then. As far as I know only Fenwick isn't here today from the people that should and he is working at home…"

"Why?" Ace demanded, forgetting to be subtle.

The station manager raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. Personal reasons."

"Is he sick?" The raven haired man leaned on the desk, invading his boss' personal space.

"I don't know! Now stop asking questions and get back to work!"

Ace swallowed and nodding he walked to the door.

"Oh, Portgas?"

He turned around.

"Which people are not here that should?"

* * *

That evening he was off early. At work when the station manager had asked him who wasn't at work that were supposed to, he had started to panic. Everyone was present. So he just named a few colleagues of whom he knew the had the day off. Annoyed his boss had sent him away, telling him to stop wasting his time.

After work he had considered calling Marco, after all, he had still had the blonde's number from when he sort of trespassed in his office. But how would he explain how he got the number to the arson inspector? Surely he couldn't tell the truth. Maybe he could say that he got it from Thatch or Izo? But what if Marco made inquiries?

In the end he had decided not to call. There was no rush anyway, it was still enough time before the wedding. The worst that could happen was that he would lose his nerve.

He had agreed to go out drinking with Zoro that evening, he could really use that right now. They ended up going to a gay bar nearby, so at least the green haired man could pick someone up. Perhaps he would as well.

Nami and Luffy had invited themselves to come along, together with some of Nami's work friends. The girls went dancing and Zoro and Ace took it upon themselves to guard the naïve Luffy against predators.

"So, how's business going?" Ace asked Zoro while ordering a beer.

"Slow," the man grunted. "People don't really need a private investigator with this economy." He took a sip.

The freckled man pursed his lips. "What about that bouncer job?"

His friend groaned and let his head fall on the bar. "Awful. The club is so annoying. The only guests are teenage girls and they don't shut up!" He slammed his hand on the top. "They never shut up. And they giggle! I have to listen to it the whole time! Boys, make-up… I can't take it anymore! And worse, after I broke up a cat-fight, some of the girls come over and talk to _me_! It's excruciating!"

Ace snickered, earning him a dark glare. "You can always quit, can't you?" he asked composing his face.

"I need the money," the green haired man answered shrugging. Suddenly he grabbed Luffy's arm. The boy was spinning around on the bar stool next to the swordsman. "He's taken," Zoro growled to a man that had approached. He backed off quickly.

"You're so mean! You never let me talk to anyone when we go to your bars," Luffy pouted.

Ace started to laugh and rubbed his brothers head. "Trust me, it's for your own good."

* * *

Tired and a little drunk – okay, very drunk – Ace let himself fall on his bed. The night had been fun. He and Zoro had warded of some men from Luffy and eventually Nami took that task upon herself. The green haired man had found someone to his liking, a ridiculously muscular man by the name of Daz, and had gone home with him. It didn't really seem like Zoro's type, but they had the same interest in weapons and what the hell, the swordsman deserved a good fuck.

Ace himself hadn't seen anyone he liked, but after seeing Marco without a shirt, his standards had gone up. And even though there were a few men there that fitted the description 'blonde and sexy', none of them was the arson inspector.

Nami and Luffy had been surprised he went home alone, but he ignored the questions of the former and just stated he wasn't feeling like meeting strangers.

Now, here alone in bed, he regretted his decision a little. His brother stayed over at Nami's place and Ace hated to be alone. It would be nice to talk to someone.

He took out his phone and scrolled through the contact list. His glance lingered on Marco's name. He longed to hear the man's voice. And not just that. He wanted the blonde to talk _to _him. They had never spoken a word, Ace had tried to make conversation, but always there got something in between. But not this time!

The phone had already rung twice, when his drunken brain realised it was _three in the freaking morning_. But just when he wanted to hang up, he heard a voice say: "Marco."

He made a little squeak in excitement and opened his mouth to say something. But then he snapped his yaws shut. What should he say?

"Hello?" he heard Marco ask.

"Ehm, yeah, sorry, wrong number," he mumbled apologetic. What the hell?! When push came to shove, he chickened out?

It stayed silent for a moment, but then the arson inspector said: "You should really pay attention which number you dial at this hour. Most people are asleep."

Only now Ace realised that the blonde didn't sound sleepy at all. So he didn't wake him? "Weren't you sleeping?" he heard himself ask.

Marco chuckled, a sound that sent butterflies to Ace's stomach. "No, I wasn't."

"So what are you doing then?" he asked curiously. "You having a party?"

Another chuckle. "No, just enjoying the night sky."

"Doesn't your wife get worried when you don't come to bed?" The freckled man couldn't believe he just asked that, but now he would finally have a definitive answer. Because though Marco wasn't wearing a wedding ring as Ace had ascertained, didn't necessarily mean he wasn't married, right?

"I don't have a wife."

Ace bit his lip. "Girlfriend?" _Or boyfriend_, he thought.

"I'm single. Say, for someone dialling the wrong number, you are awfully curious," the blonde said chuckling.

"Yeah, well… You're answering all my questions," Ace said challenging, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling he was already getting addicted to.

"That's true," Marco agreed.

"So you're always talking to strangers in the middle of the night?"

"Are you always asking strangers about their life stories?" the fire investigator flung back. Ace could almost hear him repressing a smile.

Now it was his turn to chuckle. "Only when I'm drunk."

"So you're drunk?" It sounded a little disappointed.

"Just a little," Ace reassured him. It stayed silent for a moment. The freckled man was debating whether or not to tell Marco who he really was. After all, if he was this nice to a stranger… But then the question why he called and how he got the number would come up again.

He decided to first make sure the conversation was prolonged – he was finally talking with Marco! "Do you always stay up so late? Just in case I dial the wrong number again," he added chuckling.

He never heard the answer.

* * *

Waking with a start, Ace cursed himself and his narcolepsy when he remembered what happened last night. He had actually been talking to Marco! Even if the blonde didn't know it himself.

Sighing he got his phone, but when he activated it, he saw to his surprise he had a text-message. From Marco! Quickly he opened it. It only read one word: '_Goodnight'_.

Smiling he let himself fall back on the bed. He felt all giddy and happy, and well, stupidly. The text even made up for the splitting headache he had from drinking last night. Which reminded him to call Zoro, to see how last night went for him.

He got up and walked downstairs to the kitchen. There he filled a bowl with cereal and started breakfast. While eating – or wolfing down, as some might call it – he kept staring at his phone. Did he dare to?

Marco didn't know who he was, so what was the harm? Cutting the knot, he opened a text-message screen and wrote: '_You never_ _answered my question_'. He put his phone away again and tried not to wait for the answer. After all, he didn't even know if he would get an answer. Perhaps Marco thought he was pestering him.

That still didn't prevent him from checking his phone every minute and even locating Luffy's phone – which his brother never took with him, as he always forgot it – and sending a text to his own phone, just to check if it worked.

He was starting to drive himself crazy, so he put his phone in his pocket and turned on the television to distract himself. Twenty minutes after he had send the text, his pocket started to vibrate. Over exited he took the device out, almost dropping it – not that that didn't happen more often – and opened the message. It read: '_Was taking a shower. How do you know I didn't?_'

His eyes lingered on the first sentence. It was probably meant as an apology and an explanation why he didn't answer sooner, not an invitation to imagine the blonde naked. As far as the arson inspector was concerned, neither of them knew what the other looked like, only how they sounded.

But Ace knew damn well how great Marco looked without a shirt, and probably even better without pants. His mind was quick to imagine it. Shit, he would have to pay a visit to Smoker tonight – and probably apologize for burning down the bush. If he could wait that long.

Walking upstairs again – which was hard because, well, _he _was getting hard – he texted back: '_Srry, I'm narcoleptic_'. It didn't really matter if he told Marco, right? The arson inspector didn't know who he was. '_Could you repeat it?_'

He lay down on his bed again and waited. This time it only took a few minutes to get an answer: '_Just don't need much sleep_'.

It wasn't a very sexy response, but at this moment everything sounded like an innuendo to Ace. He undid the zipper of his pants. Letting his hand slide down, he grabbed his hardening member. Fuck, he hadn't pleasured himself in a long time, but he couldn't wait until tonight.

He closed his eyes, imagining that delicious looking body. He started to move his hand up and down, biting his lip not to moan. Then he remembered he was home alone and gave himself the freedom to be more vocal. He was always loud when it came to sex, Smoker had reprimanded him often to be more quiet. He couldn't help it.

Moaning he imagined Marco's hand on him and he started to pump faster. What would the blonde be like in bed? The fire investigator would take things probably slow, drawing out the forplay until Ace couldn't take it anymore and begged to be fucked. Then the blonde would move with confident thrusts. _He doesn't need much sleep_, would that mean he had a lot of different bed partners?

Ace couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. But right now, in his fantasy world, Marco was all his and doing everything to pleasure him. With brisk strokes he kept moving his hand up and down, eventually cupping his balls. Marco would have made him feel so good…

The freckled man reached his climax with a loud groan and after wiping his hand and stomach clean of his semen, he got his phone again. '_Just jerked off thinking of you_'. Hastily he erased the message again. That would be embarrassing to send accidentally.

He wanted to keep the conversation going, but how? '_So, you live alone?_' he typed eventually.

Putting on a clean pair of pants, as the pair he had been wearing were now stained, he waited for a response. Finally his phone vibrated again. '_I told you I was single_'.

'_I meant, no roommates?_' he clarified.

Still staring at his phone, he walked downstairs, bumping into Nami. 'Hey, I thought you and Luffy were at your place," he said surprised.

Her cheeks were red and she didn't look him in the eye. "Yeah, I forgot something here."

Frowning Ace wondered why she was evading his glance. Then suddenly it hit him. The door of his room had been open the whole time, as he was convinced nobody else was home. A smirk appeared on his face. She had caught him masturbating? Or had she been _watching_?

He leaned against the doorpost, not allowing her to sneak by him. "Do I need to help you look?"

She shook her head, still not looking at him.

"Come on, whatcha looking for?" He stretched out his arms.

She stumbled backwards. "Dear God, _wash your hands_!" She slipped past him and ran outside.

Ace started to laugh. He knew it was a little mean, but Nami could be evil as well. He probably would pay for this after she had calmed herself. It had been worth it.

* * *

The raven haired man spent the rest of the day texting Marco, asking him all kinds of questions. Even things he already knew, just to keep the conversation going. After Nami had dashed out, the blonde had texted him back that he indeed lived alone. At that Ace answered he lived with his brother. Then he asked Marco if he had any siblings. He already knew the answer of course, but he had never heard an exact number and he was curious. As answer he got back '_14_' and his jaw dropped. So Thatch hadn't been kidding when he said that at the poker night half of the bothers was there.

After that he had asked more questions, until the battery of his phone died and he couldn't find the charger anywhere. After cursing the battery, the phone and the charger, Ace had given up and had played video games with his brother.

That night he paid Smoker a visit, giving him a box of fancy cigars as a peace offering. The captain accepted them reluctantly, but gave in to Ace's request. The police officer had been in need of some stress relieving himself, as the freckled man would soon find out. He was usually already pretty vocal, but it was like this time Smoker was trying to set some kind of a new record.

The next day he got to work feeling tired, but satisfied. In the fire station he found his friends looking rather exhausted. "Big fire last night?" he asked while sitting down.

Johnson groaned. "Yeah, took hours to put out."

Ace hadn't been on call, but even then he sometimes got paged to show up. Not this time, so apparently despite the long time it took, they had enough manpower. "No victims, I hope?" he asked a bit worried. That was the worst about the job: the people you couldn't save.

But Jones shook her head. "No, it was a restaurant. Fancy place too. Called the Baratie or something, I think."

Ace pursed his lips. That name sounded familiar. Didn't it just got a fourth star or something?

"The head chef arrived when we were about done," Johnson continued. "Poor guy, he was devastated. Very young too. We sent him home."

The freckled man shook his head. "You guys think it was arson again?"

Johnson snorted. "Ask our almighty arson inspector."

Ace rolled his eyes, when Smith suddenly spoke up. "I just overheard the station manager calling him. We should soon find out if the arsonist has struck again."

~ To be continued

* * *

This is where _Hot as Fire _starts...

(But I would recommend not to read further than the second chapter, because of spoilers)


End file.
